The Golden Cage
by Emily Bones
Summary: The War between the two sides still rages and the Dark Lord has already started to take all those who are not worthy for life to the camps. Draco risks everything to save a muggle girl from the same fate. This is their story. UP FOR ADOPTION
1. Cleanse

**This idea has been hovering around my head for a while now. I don't think Draco has ever been really convinced about his father's ideology, and he says the things he says for pomp and show. I always wondered what he would make of a properly muggle person. So this thing came along. And it's very different from my other stories.**

**I'll be taking heavy influence from all the stories from WW2, for example, Anne Frank and The Pianist. The Final Battle never happened, and the Order of the Phoenix and the Golden Trio still exist, but they won't be mentioned for a while.**

**I will eventually do a back story as to how Draco and Lucy actually met but that's for the next chapter.**

**I'll try and stay faithful to character but I'm not guaranteeing anything. My view on Draco might be a bit skewered, but you never know!**

**This is rated M for mainly distressing scenes. There will be mentions of rape, torture, graphic mutilation etc. etc. If you don't like that kind of thing, this isn't the story for you.**

**Please review afterwards! I appreciate any sort of comment, and good ones brighten my day!**

_Cleanse_

"Well hello there, David. It's nice to see your bright and sunny face this morning." Lucy Warren grinned at me over the table top, her long curly brown hair tied back into a ponytail and her hazel eyes sparkling with mirth. She loved to make fun of me in the mornings.

"Fuck off," I growled, head slumping into the crook of my arm.

I heard her chuckle, the laughter filling the café, "Oi! No abusing the employees. I might have to refrain from giving you your coffee."

"Don't you _dare_…"

"Just kidding!" I looked up, as the muggle girl who had become my friend in the past few months make the coffee with expert hands. "You know what else is a good cure for a hangover?"

"What?" I asked, actually letting hope spark my voice. Maybe she had some muggle medicine that worked?

"A big greasy bacon sandwich, untrimmed fat, with fried eggs and-"

"Bitch!" I muttered hoarsely as bile rose to the back of my throat.

"Oh don't be like that. Get some coffee down your throat; couple of painkillers and you'll be good to go. What happened that had you absolutely pissed?"

"I got engaged," I said morosely, sinking further into my seat at the thought of marrying Pansy Parkinson.

"Congratulations! Or is it commiserations? Who's the lucky or unlucky girl?" Lucy asked, placing a steaming cup of black coffee in front of me, smiling sympathetically now.

"A girl from school. Family has been planning our engagement since we were born," I said miserably, stirring my coffee.

"People still do that?" Lucy asked, leaning onto the countertop, her brow furrowed in curiosity, "I thought that stuff was only confined nowadays to Mills and Boon."

Another one of those odd phrases. Muggles can be really weird sometimes. "Well I'm now engaged, to be married, to a girl with a face of a pug."

She raised her eyebrows at me while she topped up the coffee of an old man next to me, "Beauty is only skin deep."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, looking at her sceptically.

"Beauty isn't everything," she said, wiping down the machine that made the coffee, "I'm sure if you get to know her, you'll find that you have loads in common. It might override the ugliness-"

"I've known her my whole life," I said bluntly, "we certainly do _not_ have anything in common."

'Oh…" she said, pausing to lean against the counter opposite me, "Can't you say you don't want to do it. I'm sure if you explain how much you don't want-"

"You think I haven't already tried that?" I said morosely.

"Well…uhm… you can…you can live on opposite sides of your house. And if you have to…do it, you can pretend she's…Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian, depending if you prefer blondes or brunettes."

"Ok who are those people?" I asked, no longer able to try and pretend I knew she what she was talking about.

She looked at me like I had horns growing out of my forehead, "Paris Hilton? Kim Kardashian? The former a spoilt heiress and the latter a porn star who pretends to be an actress? Doesn't ring a bell?"

"Right…" I said, staring back down into my coffee.

"You still come out with weird questions sometimes. I still remember the first time and you thought a Sprite was an actual fairy that you eat," she sniggered.

"The name was misleading," I defended myself.

"Yeah but you have still one problem," she said, still smirking, "Fairies don't exist."

"Hey, waitress! Are you going to serve us or what?" came the bad-tempered cry of a fellow customer.

Her eyes flickered to the fat, sweating tourists sitting in one of the booths and her face twisted with disdain. "Charming," she muttered, grabbing her pen and pad and hurrying away.

I watched her go, thinking of all that had happened to make me friends with a girl like Lucy. A pureblood wizard with a common muggle. Most of my friends would consider that phrase the start of a joke. It wasn't. For the past couple of months I had come into this café every morning. Partly because the coffee was good and partly because the waitress was even better. Lucy, despite her penchant of bullying me, was kind, understanding, funny and cheerful. She was the complete opposite to the world I lived in. The hour or so I spent in the café allowed me to forget reality.

The reality that the entire Wizarding World had fallen to the Dark Lords's clutches. That any day now the Dark Lord was going to make magical world's presence known to the muggles. That as I sat here, mudbloods and half bloods were being shipped to the labour and death camps. The reason that the muggle world had not been taken yet was that the Dark Lord was waiting for the right moment. He was gathering large groups of followers around all the major cities, ready for the final purge. I happened to be in one of those groups. Any day now we would get the order but the others were getting frisky with impatience.

"Anyway," Lucy said, as she swept back, "Did you hear about what happened to that poor family in Kensington?"

"No, I didn't," I said, ready to hear the worst, "What happened?"

"They were found dead," Lucy said, her face twisted with remorse, "Strung up in their apartment, a couple and their twin toddler daughters. They had signs of being tortured, mutilated, the girls…had signs of rape. And you know what the weird thing is?"

I suddenly felt sick, my fingers clutching my coffee so hard it was close to cracking, "What?"

"That's not what killed them," she said, eyes wide, "They don't know what killed them. There's no poison in there bodies, the wounds on their bodies weren't fatal. There were no signs of a heart attack or stroke or _anything_ that could have caused their deaths. It was just like…they died. It's just awful, why would someone do that? What kind of sick fucks would enjoy doing that to someone?"

"Yeah," I said, trying hard not to throw up. I knew exactly who would do that. Crabbe, Goyle and Shunpike decided they were bored a couple of nights ago. They went out at dusk and came back at dawn with blood on their clothes. I chose to ignore it.

"You ok? You look a bit sick," she said, a concerned furrow between her eyebrows, "If I was too graphic, I'm sorry."

"No, no, I uh…I gotta go," I pulled out my wallet and placed the muggle money on the counter, "See you tomorrow, Lucy. Keep safe."

"Oh right…you too David," she said, something unrecognisable in her eyes, "see you soon."

I smiled and left the café, out into the London rain. I walked briskly away, slipping into my mask of cool indifference. Once I was in a dark alleyway, I apparated to Zabini's apartment.

"Malfoy, come to moan?" the dark skinned man arched his eyebrows at me, as I stood leaning heavily against the doorframe.

"Care for duelling practise?" I asked, pulling out my wand.

Zabini rolled his eyes and stepped aside, allowing me entry.

10 minutes later, we were hurling curses at each other in the magically enlarged practise room. Jackets tossed aside, shirt sleeves rolled up, sweat already starting to form a sheen on our bodies.

"It is not the end of the world if you marry Parkinson," Zabini said, dodging the stunning spell and shooting a _confringo _hex right back, "Plenty of Pureblood wizards take lovers. Your father is a perfect example of that."

I growled and shot a Conjunctivitis curse at his head, which he shielded, "_don't_ compare me with _him_."

He laughed, circling me, "Honestly Malfoy, its only a suggestion. There are plenty of women who would throw themselves at your feet. Marriage is not a series of chains and manacles that bind you. It is merely a partnership of two parties. Consider it signing a contract. All you have to do is pump out a male heir and you never have to talk to her again."

He made it sound so simple. A problem that was easily solved. I thought of Parkinson in that moment. She liked to gossip and snipe behind other people's backs. Her laugh was high pitched and sounded like a woodpecker hacking on a tree. Her eyes were too close together and she had a snubby little nose that reminded me of a snout. I chewed on my tongue and hurled a _sectumsempra _curse.

"Merlin Malfoy! I'd prefer to have all of my limbs at the end of this," Zabini cried, ducking to avoid the curse. He eyed be shrewdly and asked, "What does you muggle say?"

Zabini was the only one who knew about my 'dirty little secret'. He didn't understand it but put it down to curiosity of an inferior race. "She says we should live on opposite sides of the house and when we have to fuck I have to pretend Parkinson is…what did she say? Paris Holton or Kimberly Chardishan, or some other fit girl."

Zabini grinned and said, "you see? Your muggle and I agree on something."

"Lucy would probably punch your smug face first rather than agree with you," I said, evading the series of fiery shots raining down upon me.

"This is a dangerous game you're playing Malfoy. You're getting to attached to this muggle. You know what we are poised to do. Your muggle, like every other godforsaken muggle is soon going to one of the labour camps. Maybe if she's lucky she'll die in the purges. If she's unlucky, she'll be pretty enough to be some wizard's fuck-toy or slave."

"I'm not getting attached," I said bluntly, trying to convince myself, "She's just a stupid muggle girl. You should listen to her sometimes, she's a right laugh."

Zabini smiled satisfactorily, and we continued to assault each other until signal came.

Our marks burned.

We looked down at our marks and watched as the snakes writhed within the hollows of the skulls. We looked at each other, anticipation sparking in our eyes.

We grabbed our cloaks, donned our masks and headed out the door swiftly. The streets were already chaotic. The heat of the unforgiving sun made the tarmac ripple, made tempers rise. Muggles were being dragged out of their buildings and shoved into the streets, terrified faces met our gazes, while Deahteaters formed the channels which the muggles were forced down, pushing and shoving the muggles down. "Malfoy! Zabini!" Rodolphus Lestrange barked at us, his heavy once handsome features twisted in joyful malice, "Get to the suburban areas! Round the animals up and keep them moving towards the cargo trains."

"Yes sir!" we shouted, and apparated to the quieter areas of London. Amongst the square box red houses, with their green lawns and smiling gnomes, the bulk of humanity were drawn out of their hovels and were thrown into the street.

Crying children. I hate crying children. Snotty little things they can be. Clinging to their parents, refusing to cooperate. There were a lot more of them in the suburban areas than there were in the centre and they were a pain in the arse.

One of them bit me. After I yanked the snot-nosed brat from his big brother, the little shit bit me. Conscious of other Deatheaters watching the exchange, I pulled out my wand and _Crucio'd _the boy within an inch of his life.

His face will now be engraved on the inside of my skull for the rest of my life.

But the worst moment was when I'd seen Lucy. The Warrens had somehow managed to stick together. Lucy had one of her wailing little brothers on her hip and a terrified but grim look of determination on her features. Her hair was coming undone, bits of it fluttering in the wind. When her eyes fell on me, the most painful look of relief and hope slashed her features. She turned to her crying mother, who looked exactly like her and said something before shouting out to me, "David! David! Over here!"

My heart seemed to beat itself into a bloody messy pulp inside my chest and I turned away from her.

"David! What are you doing? Help us!" desperation broke her vocal cords, stabbing pain raking through the words.

"Malfoy, a muggle whore thinks she knows you. Why?" Goyle shouted over the tormented crowd, grinning widely, his smile looking like a series of sharp knives.

"I don't know," I said coldly, not looking her in the eyes, "Bitch thinks I'm someone else."

"David, what are you talking about? It's me! It's Lucy! We were talking only this morning. You've just gotten engaged! Please, listen to me!" She reached out to me, after handing her little brother to her mother, "Please, help us," she pleaded, eyes swimming with restrained tears.

I grabbed the collar of her shirt and spat in her face, "Don't touch me you muggle piece of filth."

Her eyes sparked with anger and she pushed back, "You son of a bitch. You wouldn't know filth if it came and bit you on the arse."

"Oh, we've got a feisty one boys!" Goyle shouted, gleefully grabbing Lucy by the waist and wrenching her from me.

With one thick trunk arm he pinned her thrashing her arms to her side and with his other slab like hand trapped her shouting, swearing mouth shut. Pulling at her head, he revealed the creamy skin of her neck. With one slow movement, he licked her skin, from her shoulder to her ear. If possible she squirmed even more, her muffled voice breaking with her screams. Her family wept and gasped, held back by other Deatheaters, while they grinned and laughed.

Goyle pulled away, smiling sickly again, "She tastes good too." He guffawed with the others, unaware of Lucy's foot, which rose and crashed into his groin.

One gargled shout of pain and his arms loosened. She bolted from his arms, streaking past the other stunned Deatheaters before I grabbed her hand and wrenched her back, "and where do you think you're going?"

She smacked her fists against my chest, kicked my shins, scratched and spat at my face. It only look a flick of my wand to have her limp in my arms, only her eyes wheeling wildly in their sockets.

"Nice one Malfoy," Nott said, his eyes trailing across Lucy's form, "I think you've earned this one."

Terror flashed in Lucy's eyes, and I could tell she was trying to fight the _immobulus_ charm with all of hell's fury. "Why don't you go have a break, Malfoy? Teach the muggle whore how to respect her betters?" Crabbe grinned, "Or… if you're not up to it, I can teach her. I'd be more than happy to."

I looked down to Lucy, who lay unmoving, her eyes like two burning coals of fear and fury. I made the decision, which would ultimately change my life forever, Without a word, I threw her over my shoulder and stalked away, the mixed cries of Lucy's anguished family and my cheering compatriots. Once I was out of sight, I apparated again, Lucy still in my arms.

Malfoy Manor had lost some of its former glory. Cracks were starting to show in the building work, ivy grew unchecked over the walls, the colours of the garden were dulled. I was now the only resident, my mother staying in an apartment in Paris and father with the convoy that followed the Dark Lord everywhere he went. I moved Lucy down, so that I was now cradling her to my chest. Entering the lobby I ran up the sweeping steps and took off down the expansive corridors, heading towards my bedroom.

Once there, I placed her on the bed and removed the freezing charm. She instantly jerked upwards, scrambled off the bed and sprinted to the door. Another flick of my wrist and the door slammed shut and locked. Not perturbed she headed for the windows, fingers grappling with the latches. Another twitch of my wand and the latches began to burn with an intensive heat. She sucked her breath through her teeth and her fingers recoiled from the burning latches.

She wheeled around and raised her tiny fists, "Come on then. Take me, David. Teach me a lesson." She huffed her hair out of her eyes, which were glittering with a twisted mixture of fear and anger, "Is this what you have been planning all along? Get close to me and, when the fucking holocaust comes around, rape me? Well I can tell you now, not without a fight."

I rose my eyebrows at her and called Moppy. The house elf cracked into appearance, bowing lowly before saying, "Master Draco wanted something?"

I nodded, "Make sure this girl doesn't leave this room and that she is quiet. Do whatever you have to do to achieve this. I'll be back this evening."

Moppy bowed again, "Whatever Master Draco wants, Master Draco gets."

"Draco? What kind of a name is that?" Lucy sneered.

I turned to her and said, "We'll talk about this later. But you should know that I have just saved your life at the cost of my own. Think about that."

I left the room, the trembling muggle girl and the loyal house elf. It was when I was out in the sun again, the statues of all looking down on me did I realise what I had done.

_What the hell am I going to do?_

**There! Lucy is your typical strong-headed heroine, because I really do love writing about strong heroines. They are the best kind!**

**I tried to make Draco almost detached but not quite. He sort of tries to keep his head down and is almost successful at it but he lets cracks show to those he trusts. He's a bit lost really, straddling the line between trying to keep his humanity and giving it up for the sake of appearances. Very angsty.**

**Please review! I'd love to hear what you think.**

**Emily **

**x**


	2. Hide

**Second chapter! Hope you like it!**

_Hide_

**Lucy**

My name is Lucy Edith Warren. Until a few hours ago, my life was pretty normal. You know, I was waitress, I had my family, I went to college. It certainly wasn't anything like the life of the Queen or Oprah, but it was pretty good by my standards. I was happy with what I had.

Then suddenly the ground was taken away from my feet. Next thing I know, I'm ripped from my family, almost raped and dumped in a room with a creature that looks like gremlin. What the fuck is going on?

"Pardon me for asking Miss, but what's your name?" the gremlin thing at my feet asked me, twisting what looked like part of a tablecloth made into a toga around its spindly little fingers. It had large pointed flappy ears and large limpid eyes, with wisps of hair hovering around the ears. It was the weirdest thing I had ever seen.

"Lucy," I said, frowning at the little thing, "And…I hope you don't mind me asking…but who and what are you?"

The gremlin bowed low again, smiling a half moon smile, "Name is Moppy, Miss Lucy. I'm a house elf. I keep the house clean and do what Master Draco wants me to do."

"Right," I said, eye sliding to the door. Sizing up the…house-elf, I knew it wouldn't stop me from doing… a lot. And, even though David or Draco or whatever his name is, hadn't…touched me yet, there was always the chance he was saving that for later. My hands reached up to my hair and pulled out a hairpin. I remembered what my 21-year-old brother had taught me, the last time he had been home from Afghanistan. The thought of Aaron twisted my gut, but I gritted my teeth and headed towards the door. I took the hairpin and slotted it into the lock.

"Moppy would like to know what you are trying to do, Miss Lucy," Moppy's squeaky voice came from behind me, as the hairpin rattled in the lock.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I muttered, listening intently for the tell-tell click.

"I'm afraid Moppy can't let you do that," the squeaky voice continued.

"What are you going to do? Wait for midnight and eat something?" I muttered distractedly.

"Moppy is not sure what you are trying to say Miss Lucy." Suddenly, the hairpin burned between my fingers.

"Ow!" I cried, fingers recoiled from the hairpin. I watched in astonishment as the hairpin melted in the lock, liquid metal dripping down the door, "Oh my…!"

I spun on the spot and grabbed the gremlin, "What the hell is going on! Things are happening that defy science and logic. The bastard managed to get me immobile without using any drugs, he managed to lock the door without even touching it and things keep in heating up without an open flame near. I just… I don't know what is going on and its scaring me."

The little thing cocked its head onto one side and frowned, "Are you a muggle Miss Lucy?"

Tears pricked my eyes but I blinked them away, "I don't even know what that is."

"It's a person who can't do magic," Moppy explained kindly, "Someone who isn't a witch or wizard. If you are…you are the first muggle I have ever met."

"So…what you are saying is that magic exists," I said, releasing Moppy and standing to my full height.

"Exactly Miss Lucy," Moppy said.

"And those people who were forcing us out of our homes…they're…wizards?" I asked, anger starting to thrum through my words.

"Yes Miss Lucy," Moppy replied, "But they're not all like that. Master Draco is good, despite how he tries to act like he's not."

"Oh really?" I said scathingly.

"Really, Miss Lucy. He's saved you, hasn't he? He has risked his own life to do so."

"Yeah…" I said, eyes sliding towards the door. Another plan formed in my head. I set myself up, taking a running stance, tongue between my lips.

"Miss Lucy, may Moppy ask again: what are you doing?"

Ignoring her, I sprinted towards the door, slamming my shoulder against the wood. All it achieved me, was a throbbing shoulder and arm. I swore, sliding down the oak wood, cradling my arm to my chest.

"Miss Lucy, I'm afraid I'm going to have to restrain you. You're making too much noise and trying to get out."

"You restrain me, and I don't care what you are, I will kick your little gremlin arse to Timbuktu and back," I grunted out, still holding my arm.

Moppy's eyes widened, "Muggles are strange," was the last thing she said to me before I was 'restrained.'

Stupid little gremlin.

**Draco**

It was past midnight when I got back. When the next group took over purging the city, I grabbed Zabini and pulled him aside. "I need your help," I hissed, eyes flickering to the others.

He raised his eyebrows and asked, "With what exactly? The last time you looked like this, you had stolen your father's broomstick and had broken it on the Whomping Willow. What have you done?"

"Come with me," I said, eyes still looking for eavesdroppers.

We apparated to Malfoy Manor again, which looked gloomier and more ramshackle in the dark. He followed me up the stairs along the corridor, before we were standing outside my door. It was silent. Moppy had done her job.

Turning to Zabini I said in all seriousness, "Whatever you see, you must not tell anyone."

Zabini rolled his eyes, "I won't."

I narrowed my eyes, "Swear it or take an Unbreakable vow."

Zabini's nostrils flared with exasperation, "I swear it, on my mother's life. Will you now tell me what is going on?"

I looked searchingly into his eyes until I satisfied myself that he wasn't lying. I unlocked the door and opened it, allowing Zabini to see inside the room.

Lucy was tied up to one of the bedposts, gag in her mouth and her eyes glittering with fury. As soon as she saw me she began to shout behind her gag, her words tangled and muffled. But I was pretty sure she was calling me every name under the sun.

"Oh Malfoy, you didn't," Zabini whispered, "I _told _you, you were getting too attached."

"Honestly, if she hadn't seen me, I wouldn't have actively looked for her. She was just there, in the wrong place at the wrong time," I said, running my fingers through my hair, "and now I have a muggle in my bedroom."

"Fucking hell, Malfoy! You and your little piece of filth will be annihilated if anyone finds her," Zabini spat, "Are you completely insane?"

"You don't think I already know that?" I hissed, as Lucy continued to struggle against her bonds, "I just…I've known her for a while now. She really isn't like the animals they're made out to be. It was an impulse to bring her here."

Zabini stared at me for a moment before, "Well…its not too late. We can kill her now and say it was accidental."

"We're not killing her," I retorted, eyes fixed on the struggling girl, "I just need to find a place to hide her."

I turned to Moppy, who had been waiting patiently all this time, "how has she been?"

The elf bowed before answering my question, "Miss Lucy tried lots of times to escape before I ties her up by your bed. She's been like this for a few hours now."

I nodded before kneeling down to where Lucy sat, looking dead into her eyes, "I'm going to remove the gag and you are going to remain quiet when I do. Nod if you understand."

She glowered at me, before nodding. I severed the ropes from her mouth with my wand. That was when she spat into my face.

"You never said anything about spitting," she sneered, a triumphant smile on her face.

After wiping the spittle from my face I heard Zabini say, "Not like animals, eh?"

Grabbing Lucy's chin, I made her look into my face, "Don't. Piss. Me. Off. If you don't do exactly as I say, I'll throw you to my comrades and let them have their way with you before I finally let them kill you in some elaborate and painful way. Do you understand me?"

"What are you? Who are you? Why are you doing this?" she asked, eyes sparkling with an unfathomable something.

"We're wizards. We're Deatheaters. We're cleansing the cities of muggles because we're better than you. Malfoy here decided to get all sentimental though and save your arse," Zabini said, looking down at Lucy as if she was road kill.

Her eyes flickered up to him and horror dawned on her features, "So what you're saying is…you're performing purges of all people who can't do magic?"

"Give the girl a prize!" Zabini said sarcastically.

Lucy did something that shocked me. She began to cry. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto her bound hands. Her head dropped forwards and she moaned before snapping it back up, eyes slowly getting bloodshot, "My family? They're all gone aren't they?"

I continued to stare into her blotchy face, feeling my gut twist, "Yes, they're gone. They'll be sorted according to how fit they are. The ones who are weak will be culled. The ones who are strong or have a talent will be kept."

Lucy seemed to deflate. She pulled her legs closer to herself and brought her arms to her chest, putting her hands in front of her mouth clasped as if in prayer. She closed her eyes; tears squeezed themselves from out under her lids and trickled down her cheeks. I stood up, allowed her some space to breathe.

I turned to Zabini and said, "So what should I do?"

Zabini stared at Lucy for a long moment, a small crease appeared between his eyebrows before he snapped his attention to me, "well you can't hide her in your bed chamber forever. Parkinson might have something to say about that. In fact…you can't hide her in this house. This place is too central to the movement to be hiding one of them in your cellar. Is there a cottage or a groundkeeper's lodge you could put her in, in the grounds? It has to be somewhere close-ish, where you can take care of her."

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to think. "Uhm…oh! There's the Sanctuary."

Zabini's face twisted into confusion, "The what?"

"My father told me about it last night," I said, remembering my father's jovial, liquor smelling face at the glittering party, "he said, that if Parkinson couldn't please me, I could use the Sanctuary. It's this cottage inside a walled garden, where the men of the family would keep their lovers. It's like a harem, except for one girl. It's magically guarded, just in case any jealous wives or enemies tried to break their way in. It's perfect!"

"Where is it?" he asked.

"I can't tell you. It's a Malfoy secret," I replied, eyes falling on Lucy again, who was still crying silently, "But I know it will be a good place to keep her. It's the perfect safe house."

"Right… you better get her sorted as quickly as possible. We can't have her snivelling here forever," he took one look at her and shuddered, "you sort her out. You know how I hate crying women."

"Right," I said, not relishing the thought myself. I kneeled down to where she was and gently severed her bonds. She didn't seem to notice the ropes fall away from her wrists and ankles, which were now ringed with purple bruises and red welts. "Lucy, Lucy, I'm going to take you somewhere safer. You must be tired. Are you hungry?"

It took her a while to reply, she used her long fingers to wipe her eyes, the rims stained with red, the mascara she'd put on that morning forming black and grey streaks on her wet cheeks. "I'm not hungry," she whispered, "Just…do what you have to do."

**Lucy**

My name is Lucy Edith Warren. Until several hours ago, my life was pretty normal. You know, I was waitress, I had my family, I went to college. It certainly wasn't anything like the life of the Queen or Oprah, but it was pretty good by my standards. I was happy with what I had.

And then someone punched a hole through my chest. All the air was wrung out of me and it felt like I couldn't breath. I couldn't think. I could only feel. And by God did it hurt.

I didn't notice anyone else. It was only when the boy I'd known as David tapped my shoulder and asked me if I was hungry. I'd lost my appetite. I just wanted to curl up into a ball and become numb.

"I'm going to take you somewhere safe. You'll stay there until…" he trailed off, his winter grey eyes flickered around the room before settling back on me.

It now seemed incredible to me that I used to fancy him. From the moment he had stepped into the café, I had more than one hormone-fuelled daydream about him. With white blonde hair, aristocratic features and eyes that reminded me of gauzy clouds, it was no wonder. But he was tainted now. Everything was tainted.

"Whatever," I muttered, pulling myself to my feet. Fatigue weighed heavy on my bones and I staggered a little, as the blood rushed away from my head. The dark skinned man was still staring at me like I was a rodent. "Why don't you take a picture? It will last longer," I snapped, pulling my large oversized cardigan around my form and glaring at him.

He looked taken aback before he sneered, "You do not talk to me like that muggle. You are not my equal, so don't treat me as such."

I raised my eyebrows at him, "Well someone sounds like a pompous arse."

Turning away from him I looked to Draco, "Take me to your safe place."

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes unreadable before he walked out of the room. "Follow me," he said, beckoning with his palm, "and keep up. Moppy you come too. Zabini, thanks for your help, but you can go."

If I knew that this was the last time I would see the outside world for 7 years, I would have paid more attention to my surroundings. But I didn't know, and I had bigger things on my mind than the scenery. My thoughts were too frightened to take in the idea that my family was gone. So I focused on the day this all started. The day I met David.

That's all I knew him by: David. No last name. Not a fancy name like this Draco Malfoy, who was the stranger. David was my friend. He'd entered the café, looking hopelessly lost but slightly disgusted at the same time. I'd told him to take a seat, smiling the smile that got me tips. I took in his appearance, his clothes. I quickly labelled him as 'Odd'. Lots of different people came into the café, all with their different labels. They could be 'Posh', 'Quiet', 'Nice', 'Picky', 'Irritating', 'In Love' or just plain old 'Normal.' I didn't often get 'Odd'. They were the people who talked to themselves at their table on their own or tried to order from the breakfast menu when it was 10 o'clock at night.

David wasn't Odd because he did these things. He was Odd because he dressed funny and didn't know the most basic things. "How is the Sprite cooked?" was the first thing he asked me, sitting in his emerald green cloak and black robes. See? He dressed funny.

"Uh…what?" I asked, standing by his table.

"How is the Sprite cooked?" he asked, looking at me as if I only had two brain cells.

"You know the Sprite is a drink right?" I said, wondering if he was taking the piss.

He frowned and looked down at the menu again, "So not a fairy?"

I snorted, laughter bubbling up to my lips. "Not a fairy," I confirmed between giggles, "Its lemonade."

"Oh," he began to blush, a slight pink tinge to his pale, pale cheeks, "Don't laugh at me muggle!" he cried out indignantly.

I raised my eyebrows at him, "What did you just call me?"

He scowled and sunk in his seat, "Nothing."

Eyebrows still raised I said, "What would you like then, because we don't serve fried Tinkerbell."

He stared at me, a confused look on his face again, before he said, "Could you recommend something for me to eat and drink?"

"Well let me see," I said, thinking for a moment, "Everyone likes a Coke and Joe in the back does a mean sausages and mash. How does that sound?"

He waved his hand imperiously, "Whatever waitress. Get me that."

I added 'Stuck Up', 'Annoying' and 'Posh' to his labels. "Ok then," I said, trying to keep my temper while scribbling his order down, "It'll be out in a bit. Just sit tight and I'll get your coke."

As I poured his coke I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He sat stiffly in his booth, pale hands splayed on the table top. His eyes swept the café, taking in the regulars nursing their lunches, his face contorted as if he was smelling something rancid. I walked over with his coke and set it down beside him, "There ya go. Your bangers and mash will be out in a minute, ok?"

"Ok…is your name Lucy?" He suddenly asked, eyes locked on me.

"Uh huh, says on the name tag," I said, tapping the piece of plastic, "Why?"

His eyes flicked to the badge and back again, "Just uh…an acquaintance of mine says hello and hopes you're doing well."

I asked him curiously, "Oh yeah? Who?"

"Uhm…Albus? Albus Dumbledore?" he said.

My face broke into a wide grin at the name of Albie, another Odd but Nice customer of the café. He was an old man, with the longest white beard I had ever seen, dresses extravagantly and liked to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. We would talk whenever I had the time and he would tell stories. They were kooky and quirky and about wizards and witches, but they captivated me all the same.

He hadn't been in for a while now. He had been looking quite fragile the last time I saw him, but whenever the bell above the door rang I would look up and hope it was him, with that same little smile and those sparkling blue eyes. "Albie! How's he doing? I haven't seen him for a while," I asked, smiling hopefully at him.

His eyes widened and his face seemed to twitch, "Uhm…he's…he's dead. I'm sorry."

Cold shock drenched my skin and my smile slipped off my face, "Oh my…wow…huh. I never even knew. When did he die?"

"A few months ago," he said and he was starting to look sick.

Another bucket of freezing shock and sorrow doused me. "God rest his soul," I whispered, "How did he go?"

"He…he…" David struggled for words, looking guiltier by the minute, "He was…attacked. What's the word…?"

"Mugged?"

"Yeah, that word," he said, staring into his perspiring drink.

"Oh my Lord," I said, putting my hand to my forehead, "the poor man. I never realised. Shit." I quickly slapped my hand to my mouth, "Sorry, I don't normally swear in front of customers."

"That's ok," he said, not looking at me.

"Lucy! Order up!" came Joe's cry from the back.

I took a deep breath and tried to smile, "I'll be back in a minute."

I whisked away, glad to have a chance to compose myself. Picking up the bangers and mash I came back, fully prepared and smiling. He still sat there, looking both sick and confused, his glass of coke untouched. "Here you go," I said, setting the plate down, "You haven't tried your coke yet."

He glanced at it and said, "It looks disgusting."

I laughed, "Yeah and that's with the colourings. You know it's supposed to be green without them? Give it a try, its really sweet and kind of spicy."

He tentatively took a sip and quickly spat it out again, "Ugh! It's…tingly on my tongue. What is that?"

'Who is this guy?' I thought to myself, "That's the carbonated bubbles. Creates a little fizz on your tongue."

"Oh…" he said again, frowning deeply at the glass, before taking a sip. He seemed to swill it, as if it was a fine wine before swallowing, "hmm…interesting."

The bell jangled and customers entered, looking expectantly at me, "You eat now, kay?"

He nodded, starting to look a bit more relaxed in his surroundings.

I didn't talk to him for a while, always catching him in the corner of my eye as I worked. I watched, as he slowly seemed to relax, his shoulders unwinding and his tense features slacken. He even seemed to be enjoying his meal; it was gone after 15 minutes.

After I had a moment to spare, I headed to his table, asking, "So will that be all?"

This time he smiled at me. Sure it was a tentative smile, one that wasn't sure about itself, but it was a smile all the same. "Yes thank you," he replied.

"I'll just get the bill for you then," I said, smiling warmly back.

After setting the slip of paper on the table, I went to bus a few tables before coming back to the now frowning boy.

Five large yellow-gold coins sat on the paper, gleaming in the neon lighting. "Bloody hell," I said, picking up the coins and inspecting them closely, "Are these real gold?"

"Sorry I don't have anything else to pay you with," he said, his snooty demeanour back in place.

"Are you foreign? I don't think I've ever seen coins like these before," I asked, still staring at the fat coins.

"So will they do?" he said, eyebrow raised.

I frowned and put the coins back again, "'Fraid they won't. Boss would bite my head off if I accepted foreign change."

He glowered at me, "Well I don't have anything else to pay you with."

I glowered right back, "well you are going to have to find a way to pay for your meal. You ain't leaving until you've paid for your bill."

He looked livid and his right hand twitched. My skin prickled, telling me that this boy was more than what he seemed. We were silent for minute, shooting glares at each other until I finally said, "Oh for god sakes! I will pay for it out of my tips, but you better pay me back!"

As I rummaged around in my waitress pouch, he sat there stunned, "What?"

"The next time you come back, and you better come back," I said jabbing a finger at him, "You bring the full amount with you. Understand?"

He sat there speechless before nodding, "I will." He shifted as if he was about to leave.

Once I slapped a crinkled ten quid on the table and I pushed out a proffered hand, "You're not going anywhere yet. Give me something valuable that you will have to come back for."

"What!" he shouted, causing several other customers to stare indignantly at us, "I'm not leaving anything!"

"Do I look like I was born yesterday!" I replied, getting angry now, "If I let you leave this café now, you're going to bugger off and I'll never get my money back. I promise to keep whatever it is safe if you keep your end of the bargain. So hand it over, whatever it is."

He huffed and muttered darkly as he rummaged in his pockets before finally pulling out a silver pocket watch, a green glittering emerald in the centre of the round circle, "This is thievery!" he muttered, handing it over, "If you lose this…"

I rolled my eyes, "This is just insurance so that you will come back. I won't lose it. But if you don't come back within a week…I'll give the pocket watch to my little brother. He sure likes shiny, pretty things."

He gaped at me, his eyes burning with fury, "Unbelievable!" he whispered, sliding out the booth.

"What's your name?" I asked, "Just so I know who my brother has to thank for his pretty new toy."

He looked livid before spitting the word 'David' into my face and storming out of the café. I smiled smugly and tucked the pocket watch away.

He came back within a week and paid me back in full…and then sat down for a second portion of sausages and mash, this time with coffee. Then he came the week after that. And the week after that. And the week after that. His visits became regular, just like old Albie's. We grudgingly got to know each other and before I knew it, I considered him a friend. Even if he could be a right snob sometimes.

Its weird, how life can give you the strangest circumstances. It could lead to the oddest things.

Such as a man I thought I knew, pulling back a curtain of red ivy to reveal a stone archway, filled in with grey bricks. "Here we are," he said, taking out a thin reed of wood, he tapped the stones in a sequence that was lost to me. The bricks melted away revealing an inky blackness that scared me. "Lumos," Draco whispered, the same thin piece of wood illuminated at the tip, sending a bright beam of light spilling across that inky blackness.

Even in the bright light, I could only see a spill of thick grass across the ground; everything else was a mess of shadows and shapes.

He stepped forward and I followed him, tracing his footsteps deep into what I assumed was a garden. It was when his light hit and oaked door, did we stop. He pulled out an old iron key and unlocked the door, stepping into a gloomy hallway. "Come," he said, beckoning with his hand, "This is your home now."

I stepped in, glancing around. I could tell he was about to get into a tour so I held up my hand, "I'm not in the mood for some real estate bullshit to be thrown at me. Just show me a bed and I will sleep in it."

He paused before nodding. "Just up this way," he murmured quietly, "We'll discuss matters in the morning."

I followed him up some steps onto a tiny landing, before leading me into a musty smelling room. He waved his stick-thingy and the lamps were lit, the bed cleaned and made, dust removed, the fire lit. The room had gone from gloomy and cold to warm and inviting. My brain was past caring to know how it happened. I kicked off my shoes, went to the bed and curled up beneath the covers. I closed my eyes and waited for oblivion.

Oblivion is looking _so_ good right now.

**Draco**

"Moppy, I order you to look after this girl and protect her with your last breath," I said. I dimmed the lights in her room as she curled in on herself under the bed covers, "You stick by her, ok?"

"Of course Master Draco, I'll do my best," Moppy said. She looked around with clear eyes and said, "I'll get this place all nice for her Master Draco. I'll work through the night."

"Good," I said, "I have to get back to the Manor. Tell her I'll be back in the morning."

"Of course," she said, bowing lowly, "See you soon Master Draco."

I swept down the stairs and back into the walled garden, heading quickly for the Manor. I felt better now that I had a place to keep my muggle safe. She might hate me for it, but I felt better that I had at least saved her life. It was a reminder that there were tiny tatters of humanity inside me.

Whether they were worth salvaging was an entirely different matter.

**There! Hope you like it! Please tell me if you think Draco was in character. The first version of this, Draco was way soppier. It was only half way through did I realise it!**

**Please comment etc. They make my day! **

**Emily**


	3. Wake

_Wake_

When I surfaced to consciousness, I kept my eyes tightly shut. I wished and prayed that when I opened them, I'd be in _my _room, with its curled posters of famous guys I had had a crush on since I was 12, well worn shelves with well worn books and my old quilt spread across me. I wished and prayed that Mum would be shouting up the stairs for me, "You're gonna be late for college!" I wished and prayed that I would run down stairs to find a chaotic kitchen, with Luke and Mark trying to throw their bowls of cereal at the wall, while Dad calmly reads the paper over a mug of tea and Mum screams bloody blue murder.

I wished and prayed so hard, that I believed it was going to happen. Everything that happened to me, I wanted it to be a terrible but a peculiar nightmare, the memory of which would eventually flow away like smoke in the wind.

So I opened my eyes, confident this would be the case…and was severely disappointed. The room was not mine. The bed was not mine. I was lying fully dressed under the covers. The room was decorated in sickly colours of pink and white lace. I turned over and stared at the vase of dead pastel coloured flowers. The room smelled of heavy perfume, the kind that my Great Aunt Brenda wore, heavy and oversweet. I wrinkled my nose and sat up, my hair sticking up on one side. I still felt groggy, my eyelids feeling gungy. I got up and tiptoed to a bowl and jug, which were full of warm water. I washed my face, noticing a brush on the side. I brushed out my hair until they were the familiar fuzzy curls before putting the brush down and edging towards the door.

The smells of bacon and eggs wafted up from the stairs. I crept along them, the floorboards creaking beneath my socks. Whatever this place was, it had seen better days. The flowery wallpaper was peeling in places, there were water stains on the ceiling and under the smell of bacon there was the smell of must heavy in the air. Following my nose and the sounds of scraping pots wafted up from the bottom floor. Pulling my large cardigan around me, I shuffled down the stairs and turned right at the bottom of them.

I was standing in what appeared to be a rather dusty kitchen, light streaming past a pair of moth eaten curtains on the opposite window. The tiny gremlin from yesterday was standing on a stool by the stove on the left, shuffling a frying pan on the stove. I coughed to get its attention, standing awkwardly by the door.

The head swivelled around, a large crescent moon smile at me, "Miss Lucy! You's up! Please sit, Moppy is makings yours breakfast."

I gave a small smile back and shambled towards the small table and chairs in the centre of the room. I gingerly sat myself down on the chair. Crossing my legs, I watched the gremlin cook.

Not bearing the silence anymore, I said, "So… did you sleep well?"

I did not expect the reaction I got from that simple question. The gremlin's eyes shone with inexpressible emotion and its hands trembled, "M-M-Moppy h-has n-n-n-never been asked th-that qu-qu-question b-before." Large tears rolled down its brown weathered skin, dripping of the ends of its nose and chin.

I stared at her, open-mouthed before blurting out, "Alright, its just a question!"

She finally sniffled and finished her little breakdown before turning back to the eggs and bacon, "I didn't really sleep, Miss Lucy. I was trying to get this place tidy and clean for you."

I took in the chipping paint on the wall, the leaking tap in the sink under the window, the broken hinges on the cupboards, "Needs a bit more than a clean and a tidy, but thank you. Its always good to have a clean house," I focused my mind on how I could make this place better. It was better thinking about that than thinking about anything else, "My dad's a handyman, does DIY and shit, taught me a few things. Lick of paint there, few hammerings there, place could look quite nice. I'd need your help though, if you'd do me the favour please."

Her eyes were shining again and I put up my hands and said, "Don't freak out, it was only a suggestion."

"Miss Lucy is very polite to Moppy," Moppy whispered, "No one has ever talkeds to Moppy in such a nice way. That's why Moppy's eyes leaked." She served the bacon, eggs, sausages, hash brown and bakes beans on a white china plate before scuttling away for cutlery.

I thanked her, and her hands trembled as she set down the cutlery. "What kind of people have you been around with? They couldn't have been very nice."

She smiled sadly, as she began to clean the stove again with worn fingers, "You's right Miss Lucy."

I smiled sympathetically at her and began to eat. It was pretty good considering it had been cooked by a gremlin. "So when's David…I mean Draco, coming around to explain all of this to me."

"He should be here any minute, Miss Lucy," Moppy said, "You's must be special, Miss Lucy. Master Draco doesn't normally go to such lengths to care for someone else. Trust me, I've known him since he was five. He only cares for himself and himself alone." Suddenly Moppy's eyes widened and she cried, "Forgive me Master!" She pressed her fingers against the still hot plate on the stove and cried out in agony as her flesh sizzled.

I yelped and jumped out of my seat, running towards her as she continued to moan and press her fingers against the stove, "Bloody hell gremlin! What the hell are you doing?"

I grabbed her hand and wrenched her towards the sink. I turned the cold water to full blast and thrust her poor sore fingers under the icy spray, "You're insane, you know that gremlin? I think I'm just going to call you that from now on, because you are truly crazy. Firstly: why would you do that? Secondly: do you have a first aid kit around?"

Large limpid eyes stared at me in confusion, "I is punishing myself Miss Lucy, for speaking ill of Master Draco. And I don't know what a first aid kit is. Is it a kind of spell or potion?"

"Well there must be something to clean and bandage these up with. And why would you punish yourself in such a way?"

"It's just what we do, Miss Lucy," Moppy explained, "Its how all house elves is like. And here." She snapped her fingers and a neat pile of bandages landed on the kitchen tiles.

"That's disgusting," I said, revulsion in my voice, picking up the bandages, "Keep your fingers under the water, alright? Don't move. And don't get emotional on me either!" Moppy's eyes were starting glisten with unshed tears.

"Am I interrupting something?" the cool voice of Draco Malfoy cut through the sound of splashing water. I whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, white blonde eyebrow raised and dark robes brushing the flagstone floor.

"Gremlin got burned," I said, "because she has the burning desire to punish herself."

He smirked, his confident demeanour firmly back in place. Arrogant git. "Glad you are getting along," he replied, walking to sit down in the other chair at the table. He took a piece of bacon from my plate and popped it into his mouth, "Moppy, get me a cup of coffee."

Moppy made a move to get away from the sink, but I glared at her, "Stay right where you are gremlin. "

I then turned my glare back to Draco, "Get your own sodding coffee. Gremlin's hands are too burned to do anything."

His eyes narrowed, "I never make my own coffee. Moppy: make my coffee."

I grabbed Moppy's moving hands and forced them under the icy spray, not breaking eye contact with Draco. "Well there's no time like the present to break habits. Make your own coffee."

"You're a waitress, why don't you make it?" his wintry grey eyes were glaring right back now.

My temper spiked and I spat back, "Not anymore, not since the next fucking holocaust rolled through town. I probably no longer have customers to serve or a boss to pay my wages or a family and friends to go home to after my shift!" My voice had risen throughout my tirade until I was practically screaming it at him and trembling with barely controlled rage.

He was silent, his jaw locked and his eyes burning with something unreadable. We both glowered at each other for a full minute before I finally swallowed down my anger and said, "Let's start over. Maybe if you heal gremlin's burns with that magic stick thing, she can make your coffee…if you ask her nicely of course. So that means you say 'please' and 'thank you', like she's a creature with feelings instead of a dog."

He chewed on his tongue, and I knew he was fighting the urge to call me every name under the sun. "It's called a wand by the way," he said, as he got up and walked towards Moppy, pointing the wand at Gremlin's fingers, "and what does 'holocaust' mean? You've said it a couple of times now."

I couldn't believe he didn't know what 'holocaust' meant. "Long story short," I said drily, "it basically means mass death. And this thing that's happening now, it's happened before."

"Oh," he said, as Moppy's burns shrank and disappeared under the stream of water.

Moppy looked incredulously towards her Master before bowing lowly, "Thank you, Master, thank you. Moppy is so grateful, so grateful."

"Now ask her nicely for your coffee," I said, as I settled back in my seat and continued to eat my breakfast.

Draco's fists curled and he muttered darkly under his breath before spitting out between gritted teeth, "Moppy would you please make me a coffee."

Moppy trembled but managed to keep control of her emotions. She began to bustle around, getting the coffee things together as Draco finally sat opposite me. He stared at me as I ate and I stared back. It was like that for a good 5 minutes until Moppy set down Draco's coffee. We both broke eye contact and I scraped my plate loudly to break the thick silence that had descended on the kitchen, "So…did you sleep well?" he asked in a painfully polite way, stirring the heavy amounts of sugar and milk he had added.

"As well as I could have," I replied, mirroring his tone, "You?"

"No," he said, "I was too busy getting your things from your house or what's left." He rummaged in his inside pockets, before pulling out a tiny rectangular box, rather like a cigarette box.

I stared at him sceptically. He pulled out his wand and gave a quick flick of his wand. The box went spinning off the table, expanding as it went. When it landed on the floor it was a fully sized trunk, the initials D.A.M. embossed on the side. Staring at it for a moment, the corners of my mouth turned upward, "Cool trick. Can you juggle?"

He ignored the joke but with another flick of his wand, the trunk opened, revealing clothes, ornaments, pictures, bottles and electrical appliance, neatly folded and packed away inside the trunk. My throat thickened and my eyes stung as I saw the stacks of curled pictures that were stacked neatly, so many familiar faces all compacted into neat piles, surrounded by so many familiar and friendly things. A trunk full of my life. I looked back at him, and tried to force my emotions back down to allow myself to speak. With a trembling voice I said, "Thank you. Very much."

He was again staring at me, eyes examining me with an unknowable curiosity, "You're welcome. I just thought to collect your stuff, before the cleaning crews roll through."

"What will happen to the houses? The things inside them?" I asked.

"Are you sure you want to know this?" he asked, a crease forming between is grey eyes.

"I've lived in that house since I was born," I said quietly, "I want to know."

He sighed and said, "The things found inside will be incinerated unless the objects have a use to them. The houses will probably be either renovated and charmed to accommodate the Wizarding population or demolished to make way for agriculture or industry."

"Ok," I said, taking it all in, "ok…how long will I be here for?"

His face took on an expression I did not like, "…I don't know. I'm sorry, I just don't know. It depends on how long the Dark Lord will reign, how long his regime will last. And that could be…years, maybe even decades -hell!- centuries probably."

There was another long silence, only the scrapes of Moppy cleaning out the stove. "Alrighty then," I said, "It could be worse I suppose." Looking around I said, "This place could look quite nice with a little TLC."

"Moppy was supposed to get this all renovated for you," his eyes flickered to Moppy, who trembled.

"Sorry Master, Moppy did not have time. Moppy will punish herself most terribly," she proceeded to smack the saucepan she had been cleaning against her forehead, her cries bouncing off the kitchen walls.

I grabbed the saucepan from her spindly fingers, "Stop it gremlin! I'd prefer it this way anyway." Holding the saucepan, I turned to Draco, "It'll give me something to do. Where will our supplies come from?"

"Ask Moppy and she will get it for you. You want to renovate this place yourself?"

I nodded, putting down the saucepan on the nearest surface, "Then I'll work on the garden."

He looked at me like I was crazy and then shrugged, "Do what you need to do. I'll check up on you whenever I can, but I will probably be ordered away a lot."

"What happens if we get found out?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"You go with Moppy," he said, his hands quivering slightly around his coffee, "She will apparate you out of here to another safe house, a villa we have in the south of France, a villa that is not of common knowledge. I will try to follow." He took a deep breath, "but that won't happen. There's no way they would discover this place. This cottage has some of the strongest defensive charms that exist. You're more than safe."

He pulled out a pocket watch to look at the time and tucked away again before standing up, "I have to go. Are there any questions?"

"Yeah, one," I said, mimicking his movement, "Why risk it? I mean, we were friends but not enough to warrant for you to save me like this."

He looked down and then back up again, "I don't know…maybe because you were there, at the right place and the right time. Or the wrong place and the wrong time, depending how you look at it."

A part of me wanted him to say that he saved me because he liked me at least or couldn't stand to see me suffer or something along those lines. Not because of coincidence. But I was tired of being angry with him. I was tired of feeling, in general. I just nodded and smiled tiredly at him, "Thanks for coming by. I'll see you whenever."

He nodded and bent his head, "Thank you for being so calm."

"Keep Calm and Carry On," I quipped, smirking hollowly.

A confused smile appeared on his face and he headed for the door, "And Draco!" I called.

He turned, irritation plain on his face, "What?"

"Thank you, for risking it," I said, twisting the hem of my shirt, "I'm grateful for my life."

"You're welcome," he replied quietly, his eyes flickering with something before it vanished, "Until the next time."

He was gone. I closed my eyes and composed myself. Turning to Moppy, I attempted another smile and said, "Right gremlin, we're going to work out how to decorate this place. But firstly I'm going to sort out my stuff out. Would you mind making me a cup of tea please?"

"Absolutely, Miss Lucy," she bowed low again.

I bent to pick up a framed picture from the trunk running my fingers along the frame. Tears pricked in my eyes but I blinked them away. I walked out of the kitchen and walked across the hall to another room. Light streamed in from the windows around the walls, revealing it to be a sitting room. There was a fire place and I walked towards it, placing the picture frame on the mantle piece.

We had the photo taken before Aaron had gone on his second tour. There we were, in the back garden, Mum and I sitting on the wooden bench, Luke and Mark on our laps. Dad and Aaron were standing behind us, the sun blazing down on our smiling faces. Mark and Luke were behaving for once, with twin sets of blonde hair and white smiles, Aaron looking handsome in his uniform, Mum was laughing at some unheard joke, Dad looking so proud, his hand on my shoulder.

Smiling back at them all, I touched each of their faces and whispered. "Wish you were here."

**Not a very long chapter and its more of a filler. The plot will thicken soon though!**

**Any thoughts?**

**Lotsa love**

**Emily **

**x**


	4. Fit

_Fit_

"We have a problem, gentlemen," Rowle splayed his fingers across the leather of his desk. Behind him, the full-length windows looked out onto greyish green plain with ramshackle huts, looking like a child had tried to make their own city out of glued together sticks. And failed miserably. People shuffled around, like crushed insects, looking washed out in their black and white jumpsuits. "There are too many Inferiors for the current camps we 're overflowing and we simply don't have enough room. Until they pass or until we find a use for them, we are going to need more camps." Rowle was my Taskmaster, one of the many men I answered to. He was the one who told me what to do on a daily basis. And by Merlin, do I hate it. Malfoys don't take well to being ordered.

His eyes swept around the conference room, taking in everyone who was present. Zabini, Goyle, Crabbe, Shunpike, Nott and I stared levelly back.

Rowle settled his beady eyes on me and said, "You have a extensive amount of land Malfoy. Ever since your disgraced father retired you have a substantial amount of . Surely you can fashion it into something suitable?"

I clenched my jaw but nodded, "I'll see what I can do."

He smiled a shark's smile and said, "Good. Make it ready for 50000 next month, then another 50000 the next month. Think you can do that Malfoy without fucking up?"

My wand was clenched hard between my fingers. "Of course," I said in a surprisingly calm voice, while I was thinking of ways to split Rowle's guts onto the floor and make him eat them. But that would _definitely _not help my current status . Pity.

"Good," he replied, a sickly smile telling me that he knew exactly what I was thinking. He shuffled the parchments on his desk and pulled out an official looking document, "Secondly, the Dark Lord wishes for young men, such as yourselves, to root out those few Undesirables and Inferiors that are holding out in the country. It's an opportunity you should all take advantage of."

We nodded, a spark of rivalry thickening the air between us. Slyhterins all of us, we all wanted to climb the ladder into better things. It was our instinct, our need to survive. I was already thinking of possible hiding places and spots to go looking for any Undesirables and Inferiors. Out of all them, I probably needed it the most. The higher in the ranks I was, the less likely people will think I'm hiding an Inferior in my home. No, I am not missing the irony.

"And finally, the Dark Lord in his generosity, has allowed for Inferiors to be taken for…entertainment." Everyone else looked like Christmas had come early. "I don't care what the fuck you do with them, just so long as they are either returned or disposed of. We can't have you releasing them like rabid dogs. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," we all murmured.

"Now fuck off and do something useful," Rowle dismissed us with a jerk of his hand and we all hurried away.

"Want to work together?" Zabini whispered the question quietly as we walked through the halls of the once muggle castle, back towards the camps. I nodded, "I was thinking the Isle of Skye. It's a place of deep magical significance. The mudbloods and blood traitors will head there first."

He nodded, "This weekend? Check it out."

Another nod, "We'll meet at Malfoy Manor. Come prepared."

Zabini grinned, "I love mudhunting. And its open season."

As he walked away, a part of me felt nauseous. I apparated back home and began to make preparations to convert the 100 acres of land into a camp for Inferiors. Clearing out vegetation, ordering in timber, employing extra hands to at least start erecting the shacks, the size of matchboxes, meant for at lease 10 people per shack. The air was filled with the grunts, hacking's and sawing's of the workers and I surveyed the forming camp.

Three weeks, and no one had suspected a thing. No one knew, that as I stood here right now, there was a muggle scurrying behind my walls. Oh Merlin, the bloody irony.

Lucy and I had been overly polite to each other when I visited, which was only twice, tiptoeing around each other.

Every time I looked at her, I would think about what I'd taken from her. It made bile rise up my throat. She was putting on a brave face. But it was Moppy who told me that she would often hear quietly muffled sobs coming from Lucy's room. That made everything worse.

Suddenly, with a crack, a male house elf named Hooks apparated in front of me. After bowing lowly, he said in a respectful voice, "Mrs Parkinson and Miss Parkinson have come. They are waiting in the foyer."

I sighed heavily through my nose, "What do they want?"

"An audience with you. They wish to speak with you about the wedding."

I swore darkly, "Tell Duke to supervise."

I trekked back to the house, wishing to put this off for as long as possible.

Ariadne Parkinson was just as irritating as her daughter, if not more so. There they stood, in my shabby foyer, dressed in expensive silks and velvets, identical faces scrunched up into polite disgust. "Well hello, Draco darling!" Ariadne's voice was high pitched as she and her daughter drew towards me, "I haven't seen you since the party."

"I must apologise," I said, brushing my lips against Pansy's knuckles, "I've been busy with the Cleansing."

"Ah indeed, the wonderful work of the Dark Lord. Finally! Good to see the filth drained away. Good that my daughter is marrying one of the enactors!"

She laughed like a canary and I smiled back, hiding my headache. "Please, come through. Make yourself comfortable." They followed me into the deep red living room, the portraits of my ancestors watching us as we sat on the couches I did not use.

"I'm sorry about the state of things," I said, eyeing the fraying edges of the curtains, "I've been a bit preoccupied."

"No matter," Ariadne waved her hand imperiously, "Just needs a woman's touch." She patted Pansy's trembling leg. Pansy simpered, "So true, so true."

"Hmm," I said, "Indeed…speaking of which, you wished to talk about the wedding…?"

"Yes, we were wanting to smooth out the details…" Ariadne launched into a detailed and longwinded lecture. I would nod and agreed to everything she said. Yes, we can get married in the garden. Of course the reception will be held in the manor. I will provide the food and drinks for the night. Blah, blah, blah.

When they left, it was mid-afternoon, since I had started the day early. I checked on the work going on in the camp and all seemed to be running smoothly. I decided then I would visit Lucy.

Back through the winding pathway through the forest at the edge of the Malfoy Manor garden, I followed it until I came across the wall that was much more than it seemed. I still remember my father telling me about it, drunk as he was, words slurring. He meant it as a private wedding gift, "Since the bride is no beauty." If he knew what I was using it for now…

When I entered, the garden surrounding the cottage was just as untamed as it was before. I treaded over the tangled weeds and shrubs before entering the tiny cottage. I was met with the sight of Lucy's long pale legs. In muggle jean shorts.

I stood gaping at them, staring at the creamy skin. Lucy Warren certainly wasn't an ugly girl. She was pretty attractive for a muggle. And I'm a male. Do the maths.

"See something you like sonny? Or is there something on my arse?" Lucy looked down from her perch on the ladder next to the stairs, paintbrush in hand looking like a pin-up girl with a wicked smile gracing her lips. It was first smile I had seen from her since before the Cleanse.

I coughed and looked away, "I apologise."

"Nah, no need," Lucy said, still grinning, "The look on your face was classic. And I've received _much_ worse. That's what you get for working in the café. Some men, especially builders in from lunch, have wandering hands."

She carefully stepped off the ladder, placing the paintbrush on top of a pot of light yellow paint. "You want a cup of tea? We've just made a fresh pot."

She was being strangely nice to me. It was almost like we were back in the café again and I was just David to her. "Uhm…well…"

"Ah go on, live dangerously. Gremlin is currently removing some particularly nasty magical rot from the spare room upstairs and I've been meaning to talk to you."

She wiped her hands on the large oversized shirt that I assumed must have been her father's and beckoned towards the kitchen. She took my hand and pulled me into the freshly painted kitchen. It was now in soft colours blue, the small dining table covered with a blue and white checker table cover, a glass vase filled with wildflowers. The stove gleamed and the cupboard doors were fixed straight, tins were lined up neatly on the shelves. The cold light flooded the room through the floral blue curtains, alighting on the warm flagstones. She pulled out a couple of mugs and filled them with amber liquid from a copper kettle. "Do you take milk or sugar?"

"Just… straight," I said, running my finger along intricate wildflowers that were painted on the woodwork of the chair. "You've cleaned this place up well."

"No need to sound so surprised!" Lucy laughed, setting the mug on the table, "Why don't you sit down? You look like you are about to bolt."

I sat down and wrapped my fingers around the heat of the green and white striped mug. "Would you like a biscuit? Gremlin got these magic biscuits, what are they called? Clouds? I've been trying all week not to eat them all in one go. They're so good! They're like the biscuits you get in those big tins from Marks and Spencer, except nicer if that's possible. Anyway, I digress, do you want one?"

I sat stunned for a minute; completely amazed that Lucy was back to her old chatty self. She'd been like a ghost before, drifting around from one chore to another. I thought she would always be like this, her soul crushed.

"Uh…no I'm fine thank you," I said, before taking a sip, "What is it you want to talk about?"

She blew the steam off her mug and picked up a feather light Cloud biscuit from a tin on the shelf, before sitting down on the chair opposite me, "Well, I've been going through all my stuff and I came across an old book of mine."

I stared at her, wondering where this was going. "It was the Diary of Anne Frank," she elaborated, swinging back on her chair to take a worn, dog-eared book off the kitchen side. She handed it to me and I took a look at it. On the front was a frozen, black and white picture of a girl with short dark hair smiling widely at the camera. "That's Anne. She was a Jew in Amsterdam during the Second World War."

"Uhm…I'm not familiar with muggle history," I said, turning the book over to read the words on the back.

"I know that!" she said irritably now, "I was going to explain it! Basically Jews were a group of people, defined by their religion, that have been discriminated throughout history and it all came to a head during the Second World War, which happened in the early twentieth century. There was this political party in Germany, known as the Nazi Party. Their policies directly discriminated against Jews. They were made to wear a star to mark them out on the outside, disallowed them from using parks, cafes and such like, pushed them into ghettos before finally deporting them into Death camps and concentration camps. This was called the Holocaust, hence the reason I've used that term several times. You follow me?"

I nodded, eyes locked on her hazel ones, "Well Anne Frank, along with her family, hid in a set of rooms they called the Annexe. They survived there for 2 years and Anne wrote what happened all down into her diary, which she had got for her 13th birthday." She took a deep breath before saying; "I'm like her, in that respect. I have to hide too, for my life. Albeit…my family isn't here with me, but its still the same principal. She was so…brave about it all. She always kept hope, no matter what. What did she say? 'I simply can't build my hopes on a foundation of confusion, misery and death... I think... peace and tranquillity will return again.' Isn't that wonderful of looking at things?"

I nodded, not wanting to take away that bright look in her eye, "So, I'm going to change my attitudes about things. See things in a different way. I'm going to try to be hopeful, that things will get better, since that's really the only way to live. There are so many things I should be grateful for: my life, my freedom, a roof over my head and food on the table. It could be so much worse! And…I want to get to know you."

I started; surprised that she was talking to me directly now, "Why?" I asked.

" 'Cause you saved me," she said quietly, "for whatever reason. And its unfair that I resented you for it. I'd like to have those laughs we used to have. I want to be your friend, someone to talk to. It's a small repayment for what you've done for me. I'll try to listen to whatever is bothering you. You understand?"

"Lucy, this is very…nice of you, but I'm not a sharing guy. I don't do heart-to-hearts," I said, pushing my mug away.

Her eyes became earnest, and she grabbed my hand holding it tightly, preventing me from leaving, "That's fine! You don't have to! We can just talk about our families or books or -hell!- maybe even the weather. I just… I want someone other than Gremlin to talk to. Don't get me wrong, Gremlin is a lovely wee thing, but I can't have a conversation with her without her breaking down. I'll make it even more worthwhile and make you my Granma's famous lasagne; it's to die for. And I don't make that for just _anyone_. Please? Would you at least consider it?"

She pouted her soft pink lips her face taking a forlorn look. Looking at her in that way seemed to tug at something in my chest. She was right. She was good company, something soft and easy in a harsh world. I sighed through my nose but nodded.

The brightest grin lighted her features and she did something entirely unexpected. She hugged me.

The only person who had ever hugged me was my mother, and that was when I was small. Feeling Lucy's warm and alive body close to mine did things to my head and gut. I tentatively patted her on the back, not sure what else to do, before gently extracting myself from her.

"Uhm…I can't stay, this was just to check up on you." I stood back, realising she had got wet paint on my waistcoat. I chose to ignore it

She looked a little disappointed but her eyes suddenly brightened, "You can come tonight! For dinner. I'll cook…spaghetti, save the lasagne for later. How does that sound?"

"Alright," I said, shrugging like I didn't care, "shall I come around seven?"

"Sure," she said, "Dress casually, you're always in black. Makes you look like you're at Death's door."

"I'll try," I said, startled by the novelty of someone other than my mother caring about me, "I'll see you tonight."

"Looking forward to it," she said smiling, placing the mugs into the sink, and following me back out into the hall. She picked up her paintbrush and ascended the steps, continuing her work on the wall beside the stairs.

I quietly shut the door behind me, trekking through the matted weeds, careful not to trip. I was strangely looking forward to tonight.

*D*L*

Later that evening, when the workers on the land had been dismissed, I retreated back to the Manor, dressing in black slacks and a dark green shirt. I thought about bringing a drink of some kind, and decided to bring a bottle of fire-whiskey. I made another journey back to the Sanctuary. Upon entering the small cottage, my nose was assaulted with the smells of a cooking meat and tomatoes. Entering the bright kitchen, I saw Lucy standing by the stove and Moppy setting the table with bright silver ware and was wearing a dark blue button up dress and her hair was pushed back with a white hairband. She was pretty

Moppy, on sight of me, bowed lowly, "Good evening Master Draco."

"You're here! Do take a seat," Lucy said brightly, head nodding towards the table, "What's that you got there?"

"Firewhiskey," I said, setting the bottle down so that it glimmered in the candle light.

"Firewhiskey?" she asked, brow creased as she sprinkled basil into the large pot she was stirring, "is that really strong whiskey?"

"Basically," I said, "Moppy, get the wine."

Suddenly, a wooden spoon dripping with tomato sauce was hovering an inch from my nose. "None of that now," Lucy practically growled at me. "Remember your p's and q's."

I chewed on my tongue and said quietly, "Please may you get the wine, Moppy?"

"Gremlin, don't go into hysterics. It will only encourage him," Lucy admonished, retreating back to the stove.

Moppy managed to remain calm, even if her eyes shone but scurried away to the pantry and came back with the white wine. She poured me a sip to taste and once I approved of it, she filled the glass and Lucy's.

"Miss Lucy?" she said, proffering the glass.

"Uh…thanks Gremlin," she said, taking the glass tentatively from the house elf's fingers, "Never really drank white wine before."

"How come?" I asked, tracing the pattern of the tablecloth.

She shrugged, "Whenever I drank, it was usually beer or cider. Cheap as chips and bought with fake ID. My mates and I would go to the local park with a six-pack and drink when no one was about. It would be the same with my ex-boyfriends. Shared can of lager at the back of his car."

Pang of unfamiliar jealousy went through me as she smiled reminiscently, and continued to stir the pot, "What about you? When and who would you drink with?"

"I would always bring a bottle of fire-whiskey or mead into school in my trunk. My mates and I would drink it in our dorms. The teachers never really cared about that kind of thing. We could have been doing a lot worse than that."

"You went to boarding school?" she asked, swilling her wine glass.

"All children from the Wizarding world go to Hogwarts," I said, "There is no other school in Britain that caters to wizards."

"Fancy that!" she spoke, "What was it like?"

"We had Houses," I said, "four of them. They were our homes when we were there."

"And which one were you in?" she asked.

"The cunning one," I replied, taking a swig of the golden liquid.

She snorted, "Not surprised."

A ringing cut through our conversation and Lucy bent to extract a tray of freshly baked dough balls from the stove. "What about you, which school did you got to?"

"Local high school and then the local college," she said, as with quick nimble fingers, she deposited the hot dough balls into a bowl, "I'd only have to walk down the road."

She set the bowl on the table along with a small slab of butter. She set the lid on the bolognaise and came to sit down beside me. Moppy had been washing up but Lucy beckoned her, "Come sit with us."

"I'd much rather wash up, Miss Lucy," Moppy responded.

Lucy rolled her eyes but sat down, "Try the dough balls. Made from scratch, since there ain't no thing called microwave dinners anymore."

"I'm going to pretend I know what that is," I replied, picking up a dough ball and wiping it in the butter.

"Basically, its this box that, when you press buttons on it, creates heat on the inside of it. Like a stove, except smaller and you can't put metal in it," she explained, "Its muggle magic."

I frowned at the oxymoron, tossing the dough ball into my mouth, "Hardly."

Raising her eyebrows she picked up another dough ball, rolling it between her fingers, "Why? Don't believe muggles have their own magic?"

"You don't," I said, starting to sound imperious, "You cannot possibly understand the word."

Her eyes narrowed, "Has your race ever been to the moon? Unravelled the code for human DNA? Made hundreds of tons of metal fly?"

She had me on those. She smiled triumphantly and took a swig of wine, "Just 'cause we can't use wands does not mean we can't achieve anything. We just have our own way of doing things. Anyway," she sat up and smiled warmly at me, "no need to dwell on stuff like that. You like the dough balls?"

I nodded, taking another one, "mhmm, where did you learn to cook?"

"I cooked a lot with my mum a lot," she said, finger tracing the rim of my glass, "We'd spend whole afternoons just cooking stuff for the week and putting it into bags for freezing."

"Describe your family," I said, "I always wondered what a muggle family was like."

She smiled and nodded, launching into a monologue about her entire family. And it was a big one. Cousins and aunts and uncles and great aunts and great uncles and grand parents. She described her brothers, her older 21 year old brother who worked in the army as an officer and had a girlfriend with blonde hair and was the sister Lucy never had. Her two little twin brothers, Mark and Luke had only just turned into nursery age and had already managed to become notorious for their behaviour.

While she talked, she served the spaghetti bolognaise into bowls and set them on the table. The smell was mouth watering and I smoothed a napkin across my lap. "Gremlin? You gonna have a portion?" Lucy asked, pulling out a much smaller bowl, "I'm not going to take no for an answer."

"Thank you, Miss Lucy," Moppy replied, voice thick with emotion, as Lucy gave the bowl to her.

"You're welcome Gremlin," Lucy said, smiling warmly at the elf. As Lucy sat down she told me, "Gremlin and I have a deal. I do the chores every second day and she every other day. It's a fair deal I think, don't you Gremlin?"

Moppy frowned, as she hopped up onto her small little cot in the corner, "I'd prefer to work all the time, but Miss Lucy but you insisted."

Lucy sighed, sticking her fork into the mess of her spaghetti, "One day Gremlin, you'll understand what I am trying to give you."

Her eyes flickered up to me and she smiled, "So enough about me, what about your family?"

"Uhm…not a lot to tell," I said, spinning the pasta between my fork, "Only child, my parents were married at an early age. My family isn't…orthodox you could say."

She cocked her head onto one side, "How so?"

Should I tell her that my aunt likes to torture muggles as a hobby? Better not. "They're just not normal. They're diehard Deatheaters some of them."

"And you're not?" she asked, her voice quiet now.

"…Good question," I muttered, "Compared to others, not really. But I have to be a good Deatheater, or my neck is on the line." I took a bite of pasta and tried very not to moan. It was so good, if not better than elf food.

"I'd never thought I'd live in a time where there was a dictatorship," Lucy muttered, "There was the BNP, but no one ever thought people would be stupid enough to vote for them."

She shuddered and filled her mouth with spaghetti. "I never really thought it was going to happen either," I said, "I said the words, did orders but never really believed it would become a reality. I never wanted anyone I cared about to get hurt."

"Hmm," she muttered, "It's all so fucked up."

"Cheers to that," I muttered, proffering my glass. She clinked hers against it and we both took a swig before setting the glasses down.

"I keep on thinking about random people that I didn't necessarily know but always saw," she said, running her fingers through her hair, "The cashier woman at Morrisons, a guy who always sat at the back of the 27 bus, the man who always walked his greyhound every Sunday morning. Its weird to think they're gone."

She placed her chin in her hand and smiled sadly, "I just…ugh, its too much to think about."

She shook herself and brightened her smile, "I suppose things are pretty hectic out there. Reforming an entire society must be tough."

"Don't even go there," I rubbed my temples, "fucking nightmare. I'm just an errand boy. The Dark Lord has us running around, while he sits in the Ministry of Magic conducting the next wave of attack on the surrounding countries."

" God," she muttered, her eyes downcast, "I see what you mean about staying here forever. This Dark Lord, what makes him so powerful?"

"He's immortal, or close to it," I explained, "and has the support of some of the richest families in the Wizarding world."

"Ah, that always helps," she said drily. There was a pause, filled with the sounds of us eating.

"Like the food?" she suddenly asked, her eyes flickering up to me.

"Yes, thank you. Its delicious," I said, picking up another forkful of spaghetti, "I've never had a person who is not a servant cook for me before."

"That must be a novelty," she said amusedly, "how does it compare?"

"Its good, really good," I said, finishing off the last piece of pasta, "Thank you for taking the time."

"You're welcome," she said warmly, "I just wanted to cook for someone, to be honest."

She picked up our plates and made her way towards the sink. "Here let me," I said, and with a casual flick of my wand, the dishes leapt out of her hands and began washing themselves.

She stood there, a shocked look on her face, before she recovered. "So tell me how that works," she said to me, grinning widely, "You didn't say 'hocus pocus' or 'abracadabra'. Or are wizards not allowed to reveal their secrets?" While she said this, she picked up two bowls of fresh fruit salad from the windowsill and placed them on the table, gesturing for me to sit.

I spun my wand between my fingers, part of me pleased I could get to show off. "All wizards are born with magic residing in them. We get our wands when we turn eleven. The wands are a way of channelling that magic, focusing into a particular form. When we first learn how to use magic, we use verbal commands but you eventually learn to do it silently, which is bit difficult to learn."

She listened attentively, eyes bright with curiosity, "Wow… would you mind showing me again?"

I smiled at her child like glee and waved my wand. Instantly, the multi coloured fruit in her bowl into gems. The strawberries into rubies, the blueberries into sapphires, the grapes into emeralds, the slices of plums into amethysts. She gasped and then laughed in delight, "amazing! Certainly better than making a white rabbit disappear."

It sent an unfamiliar feeling through my body to have made someone laugh in such a way. A smile of my own spread across my face. Another flick of the wand, and the gems were turned back into fruit again. "Glad you enjoyed that," I said, resisting the urge to trace the lines of her smile.

"That was actually brilliant," she said, popping a grape into her mouth, "Can you do anything else?"

I leaned forward, so all I could see were her eyes, "Everything else. I can do anything I want."

She raised her eyebrows at me, "That turns you on doesn't it?"

I couldn't help it, I laughed, settling back again, "Its pretty fucking awesome, you've got to admit."

"Hmm," she said, rolling a blueberry between her fingers, "I don't think a person should have that much power inside them. It'll go to a person's head. Honestly, I'm surprised that you managed to fit your head through the door."

I snorted, "You were the one who said it was amazing."

Her eyes went wide and her words took on a poor American accent, "why, I'm just a poor simple muggle girl. I don't know nothin' about no magic."

"That was a terrible accent," I said smiling, finishing off my wine.

She shrugged, "I'm not an actress."

"What are you then? What do you want to be?"

She smiled softly, eyes now downcast, "I used to dream about opening my own little café. In a small town somewhere, not too small. Bake the cakes that would go in the front window. Decorate it in shades of blue and yellow. I'd be happy with the profits I got from the café. That's why I was a waitress. Had to start somewhere. What about you? If you weren't a Deatheater, what would you be?"

I traced the rim of my bowl, "I wanted to be lots of things. A Quidditch player the most, but I never really thought of my future. It was expected that I would follow in my father's footsteps; investments and upholding the family name."

Lucy stared at me for a moment, as if I was a puzzle she was trying to crack. She broke her gaze from me and picked up the firewhiskey, frowning at the bottle. "I've never really drunk normal whiskey before, let alone this stuff."

Glad at the change of subject, I leaned forward, conjuring two crystal tumblers, "you do need to get a taste for it."

Taking the bottle from her hands, my fingers brushed against hers. She jolted, and released the bottle to my hands. I smiled at her reaction while pulling out the cork, I poured into both glasses before handing her one.

She swilled it, took a sniff and instantly did a double take, her eyes watering. "Bloody hell! You sure I'm not going to be blinded by this stuff?"

I laughed, picking up my own glass, "Yes I'm sure…what should we toast to?"

She thought for a moment, her brow creasing in a way that made me want to smooth it out, before saying, "To survival. May we both come out of this alive."

"I'll drink to that," I replied clinking my glass against hers, "To survival."

"To survival," she echoed before pressing the glass to her lips. We both took a swig.

That was the point when Lucy began to choke. "Jesus, Mother Mary!" she gasped, bent over coughing, "By fuck, that burns!"

That's when I bent over, laughing my arse off. Lucy smacked me, hard on the shoulder, "You've fucking poisoned me, you bastard!" she retorted, yet her eyes were filled with mirth, "Bloody hell, that stung."

I filled her empty wine glass with water and handed it to her, still sniggering at her choking session. "You are such a son of a bitch," she whispered hoarsely, taking the water and draining it in one go.

"And you're such a pansy-arse," I replied, smirking, "It wasn't that much for Merlin sake."

She began to chuckle, "I'm going to repay you for that. Personally, I think I'll stick to white wine."

She got up, and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of my chair and out of the kitchen, leading me to the living room. This room was decorated in colours of browns and reds, a fire set up in the wrought iron grate. The on the walls shelves were filled with worn books and ornaments, making the place look lived in. She pulled me down onto the red couch. "So, what kind of crap did you get up to in school? I'll tell you about that one time my mates and I went through all the school clocks and changed them an hour back so we were all let off an hour early…"

I think we talked until 2 o'clock in the morning. I hadn't laughed like that for a very long time. For a few short hours, I forgot about the outside world. I was even only vaguely aware of Moppy cleaning up in the kitchen. It was with a reluctance that I got up.

"Well it was nice-" she yawned widely, covering her mouth quickly with her hands, "excuse me! It was nice having you around. It'd be cool to do it again."

"That would be great. I'll see you soon," I said, and out of habit I took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

She raised her eyebrows at me and then made an exaggerated curtsey towards me, "I'll see you soon my lord."

"You are so full of shit," I chortled, covering my embarrassment with sarcasm, "Bye Lucy."

She smirked and said, "Bye Draco… be safe."

I opened the door and stepped outside, breathing in the cold night. I treaded towards the door in the garden wall.

**There we go! Did ya like it? I liked writing Draco and Lucy having some time together, they're both so cute that way. **

**Anyway…any thoughts?**

**Emily**


	5. Guilt

_Guilt_

"Last room," I said triumphantly, hands on my hips, staring at the stripped down guest room, "Ready to decorate this bitch, Gremlin?"

Gremlin smiled nervously at me. She did that whenever I swore. Even the word 'damn' made her tetchy. I had a feeling she had been sworn at too many times to realise that sometimes swearing doesn't always mean she's done something wrong.

"What were the colours again?" I asked her.

With a snap of her fingers, she made pots of paint in pale green appear, stacked neatly on top of the bare floorboards. I smiled in satisfaction and walked with a purpose towards them, "Lets do this thing!"

We started to work our ways around the wall, turning the sickly yellow paint into green. As we worked, I began my usual routine of teaching Gremlin all the pop songs I knew.

Today was Lady Gaga.

"Ok, now the chorus: '_can't read my, can't read my, no he can't read on my poker face_,'" I sang with as much gusto as I could, slapping my brush against the wall in time with the music.

Gremlin obediently repeated the words back to me, in that squeaky voice of hers. She was rather quick at learning songs. We'd already burned through Beyoncé, Rihanna and The Black Eyed Peas. God forbid house elves enjoying anything but housework, but she even seemed to be liking it. I'd often catch her humming the melodies as she cooked.

Three weeks had passed since the first meeting with Draco and we'd managed to get back to that friendship we'd had before. His visits were becoming often now. Unless he was away, he'd pop in for his lunch break or for dinner. He always swore it was just to check up on me, but really I think he just liked my cooking.

I got to know him again, learnt about his life as a wizard. I taught him how my world works –sorry- worked. He was reluctantly fascinated when I taught him about the composition of cells and the theory of evolution. I think he always secretly wanted to know how the muggle world worked.

There were times when he obviously had something on his mind. He would be subdued and would bite my head off if I ever made a cheerful comment. That was ok though, because I would bite his head off right back. It had never gotten so bad that he would threaten his wand at me again. He was very careful about that. He would help me do the dishes with it and even hang the laundry, but never pointed it at me. I got jumpy if he did. I still remembered the way it made my body useless, the way it had tortured countless people amongst that moving crowd. I wasn't going to forget that Draco could be very, _very_ dangerous if things were to go wrong.

Gremlin and I painted for the entire morning before stopping for lunch. Draco had told me the last week he would be gone for a while (I didn't ask him why…the answers were getting scary) and so to not expect him for a while. Gremlin and I had our hot thick mushroom soup in the kitchen; both of us were covered in splotches of paint. We chatted, Gremlin finally getting into the idea of actually having longwinded conversations with me.

After lunch we headed back upstairs, finished of the painting and left it to dry. As it dried, we headed out into the garden and began to weed out the flowerbeds. Any weed I didn't recognise, I would ask Gremlin to remove. I tried once to remove some harmless looking vines. Ended up nearly choking to death as the green creepers wrapped around my throat, until Gremlin came and wrestled them away.

We were working in a clockwise motion, working our way around the circular garden, removing all the weeds we came across and replacing them with carefully placed flowers and shrubs. After another three hours, we went back inside and placed the furniture Gremlin conjured up in the room. We were quite a pair: Gremlin holding the hovering furniture with outstretched arms and me directing her with a pointing finger.

When we were done in the early evening, we stood back and admired our handiwork: brass bed under the window, white cupboards and bedside tables, pale green walls with framed pictures of wild flowers. "Nice job Gremlin. That's the house done!" I said, holding my palm out to her, "High five!"

She already knew what this was and slapped her wizened little hand against mine, "Thank you Miss Lucy. We…we makes a goods team."

I smiled at her, glad she was warming up to me. I lifted my arm and sniffed my armpit, "Ugh! I smell all kinds of nasty. I'm gonna run a bath. You do whatever you want to do."

"Thank you Miss Lucy," Gremlin bowed, shifting to the side to let me out.

I headed for the red bathroom, with its huge brass bath (which I loved) and fluffy bath mats. One long bath later, I was out, dressing myself in my favourite sweats and a concert T-shirt for the Ramones.

"What's for dinner?" I asked Gremlin, as she stirred a pot on the stove.

"Mince, potatoes and carrots, Miss Lucy," she replied, "I hopes you approve."

"Gremlin, you could make mud taste good, so that sounds perfect," I said, "I'll set the table."

We had our meal, the kitchen bright and warm as we chatted together. After we finished and cleaned away the dishes, we settled into the sitting room. The crackling fire and the ticking clock filled the silence as I read _Kidnapped_ in one of the armchairs, Gremlin mending one pair of my jeans on her little stool in front of the fire.

At 11 o'clock I stretched, yawned and dawdled my way upstairs, after saying good night to Gremlin.

That was an average day pretty much for me. Get up, have breakfast, work on the house, lunch, work on the garden, work on the house again, shower, have dinner, read and go to bed. I wondered what I was going to do once the garden no longer needed work. I'm going to have to develop some new hobbies, like…knitting and…origami.

But today was different. Today did not go to plan. Today I got woken up at 3am.

_CRASH! BANG! CLATTER!_

I jolted out of my sleep, my eyes blearily trying to focus. More loud crashes cut through the still of the night downstairs and I heard Gremlin's shrill voice, "Please stop, you'll wake Miss Lucy!"

I slipped out of bed, grabbing my large warm baggy cardigan along the way. I ran downstairs, and entered the kitchen…to find it a mess. Pots and pans were on the floor, the shelves tipped over, the table on its side, the vase of flowers shattered on the floor, water and glass glittering in the hastily lit candles.

Gremlin was cowering in the corner, her eyes shimmering in terror. All because a man with dark hooded robes and a skull's silver mask over his face was standing in the midst of the chaos, brandishing his wand.

Ice-cold terror drenched me. How did he get in? Draco told me only he knew where this place was and only he knew the passcode for it. What the fuck am I supposed to do? I scooped up one of the iron pans and flourished it at the intruder. "Whoever you are, you better get the hell out of here," I waved the frying pan threateningly, "Just because you're a wizard does not mean I can't hit you hard where it counts."

The man laughed then, low and cruel. He ripped off his mask and Draco's face was revealed. His eyes were bloodshot, shadows under them, face pale and his lips drawn into a cruel sneer. His eyes told differently; some unfathomable pain was drawn there. It was like a black hole: everything good was being sucked in and being crushed. "So much courage. Stupid fucking courage." In his other hand I saw a bottle of firewhiskey, which he now took a swig of, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "You should be running. Run. Run for your fucking life."

I could smell the alcohol from here. I lowered the pan, staring at him warily, "Draco, you're drunk."

"No fucking shit," he growled, lurching forward to snatch at me. I jumped backwards, raising the pan again. He laughed, shaking his head, "You know…I found a whole infestation of your kind today. They were hiding on the Isle of Skye with mudbloods and blood traitors. Fucking hundreds of them." He suddenly jabbed the wand, making the mugs on the hooks above the stove shatter.

I suppressed my flinch, not wanting him to know how scared I was. "There they were, like rats. Hiding in a hole. They stank. They were filthy. And they begged."

He laughed again as he flicked his wand. The pan was wrenched out of my fingers, clanging against the stone floor, "They fucking _begged_." He lunged towards me, dropping the liquor bottle and slammed me against the back wall, wand pressed against my cheek. I didn't resist him but tried to calm my heart, which felt like it was trying to beat its way out of my ribcage, "There was a girl who looked like you." One long finger traced my cheek, his winter grey eyes burning, "Same hair, same eyes, same lips…"

He traced my mouth, seemingly unaware of my quick terrified pants, "and I sent her off to the camps." He dug the wand to my cheek even harder, making me whimper. "Maybe I should do the same to you. You're supposed to be dirty, just like the rest of them. Why should you be any different? Why?"

His alcohol breath burned my nostrils and my brain was swimming in fear. I had to remain focussed though. Stop myself from thinking about that wand and start thinking about how to stop Draco murdering us all. I licked my lips and said in a trembling but otherwise calm voice, "Draco…calm down. You know you're better than this. How you act now can truly decide who you are."

He laughed hollowly again, "What the fuck that is supposed to mean?"

"It means," I said, trying like hell not to sound scared shitless, "That if you kill me now, here, when no one but Gremlin watching, what does that truly say about yourself? That you enjoy killing people like me? That you are no better than your aunt or your father?"

His eyes glittered, his free hand moving down to my throat. His fingers rippled, as if trying out the thought of strangling me. I kept my cool and remained silent; freaking out was not going to help me.

And then he began to cry. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks and dropped his wand hand from my face, the wand itself clattering to the floor. He dropped his head to my shoulder, tears soaking into my cardigan. He moaned, hands moving to my waist and pulling me closer. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so fucking sorry."

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and allowed him to pull us to the floor. I looked to Gremlin and said, "Why don't you put the kettle on? Clean this place up a bit as well, please. Master Draco is not himself at the minute."

"You're a right ninny, you know that?" I told him. There we were, sitting on the stone paved floor, his head on my shoulder, breath fanning across my chest. I ran my fingers through his white blonde hair, trying to sooth the way his hands were gripping my waist rather tightly. Both of our legs were splayed out in front of us, my bare feet next to his black oxfords.

"They looked at me, oh Merlin, the way they looked at me. Lucy- I- they were your people," his breaths became short and quick again. His arms tightened even further until I couldn't breathe, "They could have been your boss, the man on the back of the 27 bus, your big brother…and I sent them to their suffering and deaths."

Gremlin handed me a mug of steaming tea. I took a sip of it, trying to dissolve the lump in my throat. I then handed it to him, "Get that down your throat. Might let you be able to feel less hammered tomorrow morning."

I felt him shake his head but I admonished him, "I'm not taking no for an answer. It is common knowledge tea makes everything better again."

Trembling fingers took the mug and he sat up to take a sip. Huddled over his mug of tea, he reminded me of a child with a cold. I rubbed his back soothingly as he drank the tea. I stretched towards the box of tissues on the floor, grabbing a couple and passed them to him. "Wipe your eyes now."

He did so, sniffling slightly. Once he had wiped his eyes, I brought another tissue to his nose, "Blow." He didn't protest like I thought he would and obediently cleared his nose into the tissue.

"Now lets get you off to bed. We finished the guest bedroom today, so it's just as well," I carefully stood up, throwing the used tissues into the bin.

Draco remained on the floor, an empty mug of tea sitting next to him. He looked up at me reproachfully, "How can you stand to touch me? To look at me? To h-"

"Oh don't be such a drama queen," I scoffed, getting impatient now, "I don't hate you. I think you're a fucking idiot but I don't hate you. I'm not going to talk about this until your sober. Now, get your arse off the floor and get to bed."

It took him a while, but he eventually stood up, scooping his wand up off the floor as he did so. He left the mask, which he must have dropped on the floor. It stared up at me with a cruel sneer and empty eyes. I averted my gaze from it and focused on the way Draco was beginning to tip over. I was quickly by his side, putting his arm around my shoulders and guiding him to the stairs. "That's it. You'll be in bed in no time," I encouraged him, as we inched our way up the steps.

He muttered something unintelligible but continued to be pulled upstairs.

We made it to the bedroom, I switched on the gas lamps, and Draco collapsed onto his stomach on the white bedspread. He lay in a half-stupor as I undid his shoelaces and pulled his oxfords off his feet. I heaved over onto his back and unbuttoned the heavy black robes so that he was left with a white rolled-up sleeves shirt and slacks. That's when I saw it. The brand etched onto his left forearm was sinister, to say the least. There are three reasons for this. One: it was a fucking _brand_. Two: it had a skull in it. Three: there was a snake coming out of the mouth of the skull. Told you it was sinister. My skin prickled when I saw it and I stared at it for a few minutes, hands curled in to my chest.

Only Draco groaning loudly distracted me from the brand. I tore my eyes away from it and busied myself tucking Draco in under the sheets. I turned him over on his side, just in case he would vomit in the middle of the night. Couldn't have him choking in his own regurgitated dinner.

His eyes were closed, mouth half open, blonde hair dishevelled, deep even breaths blowing across the pillow. I stroked back his hair and whispered, "You silly handsome idiot."

I tiptoed back to the door and dimmed the gaslights. He hadn't moved, sleeping like a baby. I rolled my eyes and shook my head before closing the door. Indeed. What a silly handsome idiot.

I went back downstairs to help Gremlin, but I found most of it was done. "You ok Gremlin?"

The little elf nodded, "he cames in, shouting and breakings all the china. He remindeds Moppy of his father."

The terror in her voice made my gut twist and I stooped to her level to rub her back, "Its alright. He was just very drunk. He's in bed now, sleeping it off. You need help clearing up?"

"Moppy is fine, Miss Lucy. You go back to bed."

"Alright, see you in the morning," I said. My eyes snagged on the mask on the floor, still doing its sickly grimace at me. With my toe, I shoved the mask across to the corner of the room before treading back upstairs again.

Settling back into bed again I realised that trying to get to sleep was completely pointless. I was wide-awake, my brain already turned on. I sighed, got out of bed again and got dressed in my work jeans and red and white striped ¾ length sleeved shirt for the next day. I went downstairs to settle down in the living room again, picking up the textbook I had been working through. I had gained all of my textbooks from the trunk Draco brought along. Part of me felt compelled to finish off my education for A levels. So until 4 o'clock in the morning to 6, I studied tectonics and human geography. When the sun began to rise, I watched it from the front window. Watching the way the sky turned from inky blackness to pale orange, yellow and pink, I thought about my family.

Where were they now? Were they still alive? If they were, did they think of me as often as I think of them? My eyes blurred and I sent a prayer for them, like I did everyday. _Please protect them. Please help them. Please let them know I love them. That I always think of them. Please make them ok. Please, please, please, show them mercy._

"Miss Lucy? Do you want to cook breakfast?" Gremlin said as she entered the living room.

"Yup," I said, wiping my eyes quickly, "I'll just make pancakes today. Sound good?"

"Anything you make is fine with Moppy," she said, dusting down the couches and furniture.

Glad at having something to do, I headed for the kitchen and began to make the pancakes. It was a normal routine: I had my pancakes and made a fresh pot of coffee, knowing Draco would be up anytime soon.

And I was right.

I was sitting at the table, sipping my coffee when he shuffled in, hair dishevelled, eyes blearily staring out and one of his hands clutching what had to be a pounding headache.

"Good morning sunshine," I said chirpily, "Coffee pot is on top of the stove, as is your breakfast."

He glanced at the stove, still trying to get his bearings, "How did I get here? Who put me to bed?"

"You don't remember a lot, do you?" I said, taking another sip of coffee, "You don't remember crashing into the kitchen at 3 o'clock in the morning, brandishing your wand and smashing everything in sight. Nearly scared poor Gremlin to death. Nearly sacred me to death."

His face drained of all blood and he said, "Did I hurt you?"

"Came close to it," I said, trying to act nonchalant.

"Shit," he swore. He treaded towards me, took my chin and inspected me. He fingered the bruise that had formed on my cheek from where his wand tip had been pressed, "Fuck, what did I do?"

"Do it again, I will beat the crap out of you, wizard or not," I said brusquely. I then smiled sweetly at him, "Go get your coffee. You look like shit."

"Right…" he said, his face looking guiltier by the minute.

As I watched him pick up the coffee pot and pour himself a cup, I asked, "So what do you remember?"

"I remember… Blaise telling me it was time for shots." He shook his head as if trying to clear a herd of flies around his head, "after that its just…colour and noises."

"Hmm," I muttered, leaning back on my chair, "do you remember any emotions?" He frowned at me, obviously not following. "For example…guilt? Regret? Anger?"

His grey eyes widened and he nearly dropped his coffee cup, "You…did I talk about a raid?"

"An infestation, actually. Apparently it was pretty bad," I said, surprised at how calm my voice was. My hands trembled around the coffee but otherwise remained still.

He closed his eyes and swore again, "You weren't supposed to know about that."

"I guessed that," I said, "And what's even richer is that you came through here to take out your guilt on me."

There was a thick silence. You could hear a pin drop. Draco leaned heavily on the stove, coffee clutched tightly in his hand. With his free one he rubbed tiredly at his face, before running his fingers through his hair and tugged on the ends, "I…I don't know what to say."

"'Sorry', would be nice," I said, putting down my mug, "Sorry for waking me up. Sorry for smashing the kitchen. Sorry for threatening me. Sorry for lying to me." My voice was in danger of quivering but I kept calm.

"I didn't want you to know, because I thought it would upset you," he said, walking towards me and sitting in the opposite chair. He looked me straight in the eyes, even reached forward to brush my fingers.

I recoiled from him, wrinkling my nose, "yes, it fucking upsets me. What else do you expect me to say: 'well done Draco, you're doing your job to the fucking T. Here's a gold star for your efforts in killing the people I come from.'"

His eyes darkened and he snapped, "I don't like this anymore than you do."

"So why should you lie to me?" I demanded, "Why?"

"Because I knew you would react like this. I _knew_," he retorted.

I looked away but he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, "I have to get up every fucking morning, go to the camps and watch the sorry excuses for human beings die slow and painful deaths. If I try and help them, I join them. If I don't do what I'm told, I join them. If I don't do what is expected of me, I join them. Then I come and see you. Here you are talking about paint colours and weeds and fucking furniture." His fingernails dug into my skin, "You have no idea what its like. So don't lecture me about your fucking morals. I already know about what a shit excuse of a human being I am. I don't need some stupid waitress to remind me."

He released me and we both sat back from each other, him breathing hard. I rubbed my jaw, still aching from his grip. Another long silence before I finally whispered, "I am sorry. Ok? We're both in the wrong."

He seemed to relax, if only a little, "Apology accepted. I'm sorry too, for scaring you like that."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, "You were pretty cut up about it."

He stared at me for a long moment, before saying, "Blaise and I had been planning this for the past month. We scouted the area, planned our mode of attack, decided where we were going to send the Inferiors to. We had it all down to the finest point. I never thought about the people I was looking for, who they were. They weren't people, they were targets."

My throat was thickening but I nodded for him to go on.

"3 days ago we set out, with a few Snatchers for back up. We surrounded the island, and piece by piece we disabled the protective charms that had been placed haphazardly around the island. The inhabitants didn't even know. Yesterday, we finally made our move." He swallowed, eyes flickering around before settling on me again, "They were hiding in the villages, in the basements. A network of them, all interconnected by tunnels that were still in the process of being built. They were therefore easy to trap. They had no where to run."

He clenched his jaw, dropping his head, "I won't go into details. We managed to round them up and send them via mass apparition to the Death Camp in the Grampians. Amongst their number were some major members of the Order of the Phoenix, the only organised group against the Deatheaters. Blaise and I were sent to have a private audience with the Dark Lord himself. He congratulated us, told me I was finally living up the Malfoy name and rewarded us with an elevated Deatheater status. I am now a Warden of Death camp just outside this garden. Before I only provided the land, now I am deemed worthy to run it. Blaise has been given a desk job in the ministry: creating propaganda. Both have higher pay and both of us have a higher status. Blaise took me and a few friends to a uh…gentlemen's club." He shook his head again, "I must have drank too much. That guilt I had been feeling all day must have escalated inside of me. I wanted to apologise to the people I'd put away. But I knew I couldn't. So instead, I must have turned to you. You are the only muggle I know. I saw you and it must made things worse. It all got too much I suppose." He tugged on his hair and looked up, "And the rest as you know is history."

I smiled sadly at him, reached out and touched his hand, "There was nothing you could do."

"That doesn't make it any less…disgusting," he spat out the last word, "I never wanted to hurt anyone. Not badly. Not like this."

"Shhh, I know that. And you know that too," I tried to sooth, taking his large hand fully in my own, "You're not a bad person. A misguided and sometimes foolish person, but not bad, not evil. You are no different from hundred of thousands of people who have voted for governments like this one before."

"You keep on saying that," he said, "but there is no difference. I still sent those people to their deaths."

"And you can't change that," I said, as gently as I could, "You can't undo what you have done."

He closed his eyes and a tear squeezed out from under his lid. I got down on my knees and kneeled between his legs, cupping his face, "But this regret, this guilt, this self-loathing. Its proof that you are not like your comrades. You're different: you've still managed to retain some of your humanity."

He opened his eyes and stared deeply into mine. He stroked back my hair and cupped the back of my skull. "You're beautiful. You know that?" he whispered, one hand tracing the line of my nose, "I'd always been taught that muggles were ugly, disgusting creatures with only primal instincts. But the first day I walked into that café, I saw you. And you proved my stereotype wrong."

Our breaths were mingling, and he was drifting closer. "You were like sunlight. You are like sunlight. Soft and warm and _alive_."

Lips so close. So close.

I couldn't think. My brain was mush. How many times had I fantasised about this? My crush on him obviously hadn't fully disappeared. He was still sometimes the attractive and charming man I'd served in the café. And he was going to kiss me.

His lips brushed against mine, sending warmth tingling across my body. I eagerly pushed forward, the taste of coffee through my mouth. He moaned softly, fingers tangling through my hair. I never wanted it to end. Ever. I could spend years just kissing him. My beautiful fool.

He suddenly tore away. "I am sorry, that was inappropriate," he stammered, jerking up from his seat, nearly tripping over the table leg, "I've got to go."

"Draco-" I tried helplessly. I scared him away. Stupid Lucy! Should have known he would freak out.

"No! Just…I'll see you in a bit, ok?" swish of his wand and he had summoned his robes. He was out the door before I could say anything else.

I sat there on the floor, staring after him, before putting my head in my hands.

What have I done?

**That was intense to write. Any thoughts?**

**Emily**


	6. Want

**I seem to be having loads of ideas for this story… I can't stop writing about it. Anyway, enjoy!**

_Want_

_Running through the garden, legs pumping my eyes were focused on the warm lights of the cottage that spilled across the night. I flew through the grass paths that webbed between the flowerbeds, wishing I were already there._

_I slammed against the wooden door and hammered on the bright red paintwork, willing for her to answer._

_She opened it, wearing a verdant green dress that made her skin glow. Her curly hair cascaded around her face in messy coils, completely untameable. Just like her. "Draco? Is that yo-"_

_She didn't get very far as I cupped her neck and pulled her to me, silencing her with my lips. I pushed her backwards, pushing her back against the wall under the steps. Her scent of wild strawberries and violets filled my nostrils, pulling me in. My hands slid down her form and back up again, growling appreciatively at her curves. How could something that should be repulsive, feel so fucking good…and right._

_Her fingers reached up and ripped the mask away from my face. "Wh-what are you doing?" she had torn her lips away from mine long enough to gasp out the question._

_"Kissing you," I murmured, smirking into the kiss, "touching you. Wanting you." My hand sneaked up her dress and traced the lining of her knickers, so close to her heat._

_She moaned, tangling her fingers into my hair, pressing her breasts against me._

_I grinned, and whispered into her mouth, "cocktease."_

_"Fucking deserve it," she retorted, running her hands down my chest, "Wanker."_

_"Careful," I warned her, grabbing her thighs and hoisting her up, so her legs wrapped around my waist obediently. Her intense heat rested on my jutting erection. I growled, walking with a clumsy speed up the stairs, "I'm not going to be nice."_

_"Oh, I'm scared," she whispered before biting on my ear lobe, "What is this big, dark, wizard going to do to me?"_

_ "Everything," I said, grinning at those stormy hazel eyes of hers, "and more."_

_She grinned and captured my lips again, nibbling on my bottom lip, "You better. I'll do the same in return."_

_Her promise made my cock twitch and she giggled. I when I got to her bedroom, I threw her on the bed, watching her support herself on her elbows. I stood a foot away from her, admiring the way her chest heaved, her skin flushed, her tousled curls falling around her shoulders. She cocked her eyebrow and crooked her finger, giving me a 'come hither' look. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, biting her bottom lip._

_I grinned again and descended on her, trapping her in a cage of my arms. She reached up and hastily unbuttoned my robes until they fell away. She made quick work of my shirt, kissing the exposed skin, down my chest and across my abdomen. _

_With a surge of wandless magic, the dress disappeared, revealing a set of lilac lace bra and knickers. "Beautiful," I murmured, "mine."_

_"Possessive much?" she said against my skin, continuing to make an agonising trail to the place I wanted her mouth most._

_"Don't like?" I asked her, revelling in the way her lips teased my skin. I felt her hands on my slacks as she unbuttoned them, pushing them down my thighs. _

_"No…I fucking love it," she said, licking her lips when she saw the bulge in my black boxers, "Can I… can I have a taste?"_

_My hands fisted in the duvet linen around her head and I nodded, not trusting my voice. She grinned in satisfaction and shifted downwards so her face was level with my engorged arousal. Her long fingers pulled down the material, my cock springing free, proudly jutting out. "Oh God," she whispered, licking her lips one more time before coming closer, her hot breath brushing my skin…_

I jolted upwards, the dream tearing away from my eyes. Sweat sheened my body, covers tangled around my legs, my arousal painfully hard. I rolled over and roared into the pillow, frustration burning through my veins.

Why? Why did those dreams haunt me? Well it was that or the nightmares. And I'd take Lucy in lingerie any day. Ever since that kiss two weeks ago, it was all my dreams were filled of. Fantasies of her, that were never truly complete, stopping at what I wanted, leaving me with a raging hard on and the memory of wild strawberries and violets.

Usually, if I wanted a woman I would get her and fuck her. But Lucy was different. She was strictly off limits. I couldn't just fuck a woman I kept hidden in my house. And she was more than just some woman. She was my friend. One of the few. I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't.

But that didn't mean I wanted her any less. I wanted her skin, her smell, her touch, her smile, her lips. I wanted her. _I wanted her_. And I'm not used to not getting what I wanted.

Because of this want, I had hardly visited her. Being so close to her and unable to touch her was torture. That and I felt awkward being around her after what happened last time. Our friendship was on tenuous ground. She would try and make conversation with me as before, but as I watched her lips move, I imagined what they felt like against mine own…and what they might feel like on other parts of my body.

Groaning loudly, I rolled out of bed and headed towards the drinks cabinet, pouring myself a drink from the pitcher of firewhiskey. I went to the window, staring out over the wasteland camp. That instantly made my dick limp; as I watched guards shuffle across the muddy ground, snow falling thick and hard. I avoided going to the camp. I handled the logistics of it all inside my office, looking out over the camp. Only when there was guard inspection, did I visit.

Whenever I did, I would see the rows of skeletal people, faces drawn and leeched of colour. Part of me would feel disgusted. They were little more than animals, slowly losing all that made them human. Another part of me pitied them. I would find myself looking for Lucy's family, her mother or her father or her brother. I knew her two little brothers would be dead. All who were too old or too young to work were sent to be culled. I hadn't had the heart to tell her. But it was hard to look for specific people. They were all bald, all starving, all dressed in overalls of black and white, all pale and broken. It was starting to be difficult to tell the difference between male and female. The only difference, were the tattoos on their arms. Their prison number and their label. MB for mudblood, BT for blood traitor, M for muggle.

I would pace in front of them, Deatheater robes billowing around me. They would tremble and cower whenever I swept past. The visits always made me feel sick afterwards.

I watched the snow fall, swilling the amber liquid in my tumbler, lost in my thoughts for a while. It was late winter now, so it was still dark when at seven, I called a house elf to prepare me breakfast. I threw on the black dressrobes, threading the calla lily through one of the buttonholes. For today was my wedding day.

I knew that in the grand salon downstairs, house elves were lining chairs, setting up the altar, decorating the place with white and red flowers and reams of silk. I combed back my hair, poured myself another drink and tossed it back, grimacing as the liquid burned down my throat.

Pansy Parkinson. Pansy _fucking_ Parkinson. Gods kill me now. Last day of freedom, before I'm shackled to that cow. There was a knock at my door and I called, "Come in."

Blaise, my best man, pushed into my room, wearing dressrobes in dark green. "Knew you'd be up. Thought I'd talk you out of killing yourself," he picked up another tumbler, pouring himself a drink.

I laughed hollowly, "damn, another hour and I'd be hanging from the ceiling."

He snorted, refilling my glass, "Just as well then." He gave me back my glass, "remember, all you have to do is pump out an heir and you never have to talk to her again."

"Cheers to that," I said, clinking my glass against his, "To blindfolds."

Blaise chuckled again, "To blindfolds."

Our glasses chinked and we brought them to our lips, knocking them back. "So tell me," he said, putting down his glass, "Your muggle going to be a bridesmaid or a flower girl?"

My wand was out before he could finish the sentence, inches from his nose. "You keep your mouth shut," I snarled, "You talk about that in front of the others, I will lynch you."

He held up his hands, smirking widely, "No need for the dramatics. I was just playing."

"Well keep it that way," I growled, pocketing the wand, "No need for me to disappear on my wedding day."

"Well which is better? Marrying Pansy Parkinson or getting tortured and killed by your comrades," Blaise asked, as a house elf brought in golden slices of toast, a jewel red jam and sunshine orange juice.

"You're making me feel amazingly better, you know," I said drily.

"Its called black humour," Blaise said, "you're British, you should understand it more than me."

I shook my head, grinning widely, "Indeed. But you're Italian. You should be telling me that marriage is irrelevant."

Grinning wolfishly, "indeed it is, my friend. Completely irrelevant."

I laughed again, the knots in my stomach becoming slightly looser. Only slightly though.

The morning passed in a blur. Seeing things through, welcoming extensive family members, trying not to run for the hills. My thoughts would sometimes stray to Lucy: what was she doing right now? Did she wonder what was going outside her four walls? As customary, I was left in a room on my own. I suddenly had this burning desire to see her. One last time before…everything.

Feigning a need to get fresh air, I sneaked out to the garden, snow falling thickly on my shoulders. I treaded through the thick forest again, reaching the familiar wall. A few moments later, I was in the Sanctuary. They'd completed work on the garden now. Though it had been futile, the ground now covered with thick snow. I hurried towards the red door, the only vivid thing in a world of white.

I opened the door, calling out, "Lucy?" The cottage was freezing, my breath coming out in clouds.

"I'mmm inn h-here," came a stuttering voice from the living room. I treaded towards it, finding Lucy curled up on the sofa, pink beanie on her head, wrapped up in several blankets, her hands wearing fingerless gloves as her fingers curled around a mug of tea, a flickering fire in the grate. She was shivering and shuddering though, cheeks pale with cold. She looked up at me and said, "I'm-m-m c-c-c-cold. Gr-gremlin's w-w-working at the m-manor t-today. Ap-p-parently, y-y-you're g-getting married."

I tugged on my hair, trying not to think of ways to get Lucy warm. Mind out of the gutter, man! "Indeed I am," I said, coming around to sit on the couch next to her.

"Y-you c-c-could ha-have t-t-told mmme," she said irritably, "I-I w-would ha-ha-have got youuu a p-pr-present."

Watching her trying to form sentences was painfully slow. I could have easily cast a warming charm or made the fire bigger, but that would be no fun. The way her body was twitching and how her lips were turning blue made me open up my arms and say, "Come over here. Can't have you dying of hypothermia."

She was by my side in an instant, placing the mug of tea on the side and pressing her icy fingers against my neck, sighing in relief. I yelped, "Merlin woman! Gentle!"

"B-baby," she stammered out, pressing her socked toes against my thighs, "T-told you I-I was c-c-c-cold."

I chuckled, unbuttoning my shirt a little further so more of my skin was exposed. She placed her cheek against my chest, ear pressed on top of my heart, "H-how are things?" she said, her shivers beginning to smooth out.

"The house elves have it," I said, resisting the urge to stroke her hair. "Moppy should be with you."

"I told her to go," she said, snuggling deeper into my side, "she deserves to be with her friends for a while. Otherwise we were going to get sick of each other."

"She left you to freeze," I said annoyance colouring my words, "When she comes back I'll-"

"Don't punish her," Lucy pleaded, lifting her head to glance at me, "She's been so good to me. She deserves some time outside. And for a wedding." She rested her head against my heart again, her fingers crawling deeper under my shirt. Breathe, Draco, breathe, "Is it still to…Petunia? Lily? It was a flower."

"Pansy," I replied, " and yes, it's still to her."

"Do you love her yet?" she asked.

"No," I said bluntly.

"Will you love her?"

"No."

"…I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Not your fault," I said, breathing in wild strawberries and violets, "Way things are."

"Hmm…what's so terrible about her…other than the fact she is ugly."

I took a deep breath, "She's clingy, obsessive, petty, gossipy, shallow, gullible, stupid and her voice is too high."

"Is that all?" she jokingly said, but it didn't sound like she found it funny.

"There is more, but I would be here for the whole day," absentmindedly my hand fingered a mahogany curl, twisting it around my finger.

"I wish I could give you advice, but I have nothing," she squeezed my hand, "Is that why things have been so awkward between us?" She shifted upwards, her face turned towards me

I stiffened, dropping her lock of hair, "What do you mean?"

"Ever since…you know what," she said, her face flushing, "You've been acting really weird."

My gut twisted and I stood up abruptly, "I have to go."

"No, Draco, please! Don't shy away from something you're afraid of. You always do that," she got up to follow me, the blankets dropping around her feet. I don't know why I found her only wearing those baggy muggle cotton trousers and t-shirt with the letters AC/DC on the front, a turn on. But they certainly were. Especially since I could see she wasn't wearing a bra. _Not_ helping.

"Just…shit is complicated enough as it is," I pulled out my pocket watch to check the time, "I'm getting married in half an hour. You're a muggle in my home. I just- fuck!"

I tugged on my hair and growled frustratedly, "I don't have time for this." I grabbed the door handle and wrenched it open, storming out into the snow.

I ran through the snow, flakes cutting into my cheeks as I ran. "Draco! Draco, come back!" I heard Lucy holler into the speeding wind. I ignored her cries and was quickly out of the Sanctuary and back in the stuffy room that was my prison. I dried the hem of my robes and removed the melting flakes, before sitting down and hanging my head in my hands.

"I am so fucked," I whispered to myself, hands fisting in my hair.

Fists banged on the door, Blaise's voice calling, "Draco! Time's up buddy. Get your arse up."

I jolted out of my seat; dread taking a firm hold of me again, "alright. Be out in a minute."

I smoothed back my hair, straightened my cravat and opened the door, putting on a smile for my best man. "There you are. Worried you were running away."

A dry smile, "You caught me again."

He slapped me on the back, "C'mon man, chin up, shoulders back, poker face. Going down should be done in a dignified manner."

I gave him a grim smile and nodded in ascent. "I'm ready."

After that it was all just a blur. One moment I was standing up as the bride entered, looking like an overstuffed white pastry, next I was saying the vows, I slipped the cold ring onto her cold hand, avoiding her gaze. Again the reception was a blur, drink after drink poured down my throat, speeches and toasts and dances and greetings and more toasts. Aunt Bella drank herself to the point of randomly cursing anyone within a 5-metre radius of her. Father never really left my side loudly shouting in my ear about how proud he was and whenever Pansy and I made contact, we were stiff, cold towards each other.

I don't know what time we were closeted into my –no, sorry– _our_ bedroom. Pansy, having changed into a cream dress, long black hair falling in sheets around her face, stood stiffly in front of me, her eyes fixed on me. For the marriage contract to become valid, we had to consummate it. In mechanical movements, I discarded my robes, leaving them in a crumpled on the floor. Suddenly, her hand reached up and pinched at something on the shoulder of my shirt. It was a hair. Long, curly and brown, it glinted in the candlelight red and gold.

My stomach plummeted but I kept my poker face. My mind was already going through a plan to get Lucy out of here and follow her to wherever she would be going. Pansy was going to figure out who this came from, that I was hiding a muggle in our house.

"You have a lover?" the question was so quiet, only her hand quivering showing her emotion.

Relief washed through me and I nodded, trying not to look too eager.

She breathed heavily for a moment, closing her eyes before opening them, "I don't want her in the house. That includes any children she might give birth to. You _will not _expose our children to her either. And you cannot be seen in public with her. Other than that, you can do whatever you want with her." She glared at me, giving me a 'don't you dare fight me.'

I nodded and with quick movements removed my shirt. I told her, "Remove your clothes."

*D*L*

Laying next to her, staring up at the ceiling, I waited for her breathing to slow. All I could see was Lucy. Smiling, laughing, crying, thinking, arguing, listening…

I had tried to replace Pansy's overstated perfume with wild strawberries, imagined it was brown curls I was running my hands through, her skin I was touching.

It worked…to a point. It was done now. The marriage was valid. That thought made my stomach feel heavy.

If things were…right. If things were normal, I would have continued going to that café. I would have gotten to know her, bit by bit, until I would have told her what I was. Then, when she had gotten over her shock, I would have taken her out, despite what my parents have preached to me since as long as I could remember. I would have been proud to have such a girl on my arm. I would have fallen in love with her. I would have married her. She would be lying next to me, right now. My hands fisted around the sheets and I closed my eyes. When Pansy had mentioned earlier, about a lover of mine being pregnant, a vivid image of Lucy with a swollen stomach, a glowing smile on her lips, had bloomed across my vision. She looked beautiful.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

I can't take it anymore.

I was up and out of bed, regardless of whether Pansy was asleep.

"Draco? What are you doing?" she sleepily asked.

I didn't answer her, pulling on my discarded robes, stuffing my feet into leather boots, "Come back to bed."

Opening the door, I said brusquely, "no."

I was gone, down the stairs, through the debris of the party that was slowly being cleaned up.

I pushed through the French doors that led to the garden. The snow had stopped, leaving a blanket of white all around. It muffled all sound, softening the sounds of my footfalls. I made it to the Sanctuary wall. A few wand taps later, I was through and running towards the little cottage. I let myself in and called out into the dark cottage, "Lucy! Lucy!"

There was a thump and a groan from up the stairs. The floorboards creaked and Lucy was thumping her way down the stairs swearing under her breath, "I swear to God Draco, if you are fucking drunk again I will make you rue the day you were born. What the fuck is so important to wake me up at 4 o'clock in the goddamn morning?"

She stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms wrapped around her slim frame. She glared at me irritably, hair fuzzy around her head.

I stalked towards her, pushing her back against the wall next to the stairs, pressing my mouth against hers. I put her whole body in the cage of my arms and legs, not allowing her to escape

She turned her head away from me, avoiding my lips, "Oh no Malfoy, you are _not _doing this to me. You are not!"

She ducked under my arms and stormed away to the kitchen, "You fucking arsehole! You up and leave me in the morning, pissed at me, and then you wake me up in the bloody morning to come on to me like nothing's happened. Don't you dare do that to me!"

She angrily opened one of the drawers and pulled out a box of matches, pulled one out and ripped it down the side of box, snapping it in the process. She swore, pulled another match out and did the same again.

"Fuck sake!" she growled, before finally lighting a match and beginning to light the candles around the room. "You are one fucked up man, Malfoy."

"I want you," I blurted out, coming towards her fast, "I want you."

One sharp intake of breath and she said, "Well that's great to know. Really. My life feels fulfilled."

"I want you," I said again, just as she lit the candles on the dresser, I went over and clasped her hips, pushing her against the drawers, pressing my lips against her neck. Hands went to her waist and I pulled her close, making her soft body mould against mine. Hot threads of pleasure laced through my body at her warmth, her softness, her smell.

"Alright Neanderthal, chill the fuck out," her hands pushed against my chest, though her voice sounded a little breathless, "This is wrong. You're married now. We can't do this."

"Yes, we can. I want to," my hands skimmed the hem of her t-shirt, toying with the idea of what was underneath.

"'I want' doesn't get," she said gently, pushing my hands down, "You have a wife now. Who you should be with, not me."

"I don't want her. I want you," there was a whining quality to my voice now, hands firmly back in place, lifting her up so she sat on top of the drawers. One hand trailed up to her hair and pulled through the tresses, working out the tangles from her sleep. I peppered her face with kisses, pushing her even further against the dressers.

"You sound like a 5 year old," she said. She grabbed my face and pushed it away, hazel eyes burning into mine, "Stop. This. I am not sleeping with you. Want to know why?"

I clenched my jaw and shook my head but she continued anyway, "One: you're drunk. We all know what has happened because you were drunk. Two: _you're married_. I can't do that to her, ok? It doesn't matter that I don't know her; I've always sworn to myself that I would never sleep with a guy who is married. Three: I'm a respectable girl. I don't spread my legs for any guy who flutters his eyelashes at me or has bipolar disorder, which you clearly do." She wriggled out of my grasp; "I'm going to put you to bed again, ok?"

I didn't let go, "Please. Please, I _need _you."

"Draco, honey, stop this. I'm tired and grumpy and it's four in the fucking morning. Beside the other reasons, I'm not in the mood, ok? Now let me get your arse to bed," she pushed against my chest, "Let me out."

"Only if you let me share the bed with you," I replied, tightening my grip around her waist, "Compromise."

She groaned, before she said, "Fine. Don't try anything though, ok?"

I grinned, "of course not."

I stepped back, letting her hop down to the floor. She began to blow out all the candles before taking my hand, "C'mon, sex monster."

I willingly took her hand, her long fingers twining with mine as she pulled me up the stairs. Entering her bedroom, she turned around releasing my hand, "take off your boots. Take off your trousers, but leave your boxers. As I said, try anything…" she made her hand into a fist and slapped it into her other hand, a deadly serious look on her face.

It almost made me laugh.

"Of course. I will be the perfect gentleman," I said, bowing low.

"Bull. Shit," she said bluntly, getting back underneath the covers, "but I'm used to it."

Trousers off, I quickly followed her, settling right next to her. The bed was warm, her scent everywhere. I instantly wrapped my arms around her waist, her back against my chest, head resting on the same pillow as mine and pulled her close, burying my nose into her hair. "I'm not trying anything," I said, my voice muffled, "I just want to hold you."

"Whatever, lover boy," she was already starting to sound sleepy, "You're my personal human hot water bottle anyway."

"Hmm," my eyes drooped, violets and strawberries filling my nostrils as I began to feel proper sleep take me, "Glad I'm of service."

"And you smell nice," she mumbled, "like lemons and…shtuff…" her breathing was evening out. She was fast asleep before she could finish the sentence.

I grinned into her hair, and closed my eyes believing, for a moment, that this was all normal.

**There! Thank you for reviews and favourites etc. ÍThey make me grin :D**

**Any thoughts**

**Emily x**


	7. Fall

**So here we are! Sorry this took so long. I started writing this chapter months ago, had writer's block and when I came back to it, it felt all wrong, so I re-did it. It is now completely different to what it originally was. **

**Anywho, I hope you enjoy it!**

_Fall_

I sat on the podium, the wind whipping around me as I stared down, down to the roiling mist below. I gripped the stone ledge with sticky fingers, breathing heavily as the vertigo made my head spin. I could feel the plinth beneath me start to crack and crumble and I whimpered, praying that it wouldn't give. But when do dreams ever go your way? Something tugged on my foot and I screamed as I slipped further off the ledge. Another tug and I was off, hands snatching at what was left of the podium as panicked shrieks uttering from my lips. My fingers gripped what was left of the ledge, the wind now icily cold, stinging my face and hands. The podium finally disintegrated beneath my fingers and I tumbled down, head over heels as I plummeted to the bone chilling fog, my hands snatching at a ledge that wasn't there anymore. Hands and claws seemed to tear at my face and clothes, ripping my skin open, dark thick blood welling up in the raggedy gashes. I couldn't seem to stop screaming. The screeches were wrenched from my lips as I fell like a stone to an oblivion that I could not break out of.

"Lucy! Lucy! Wake up, wake up! It's alright, it's only a dream, wake up!" Draco's hands shook my shoulders, his calluses chafing at my skin. I blinked my eyes open to meet stormy grey ones staring anxiously down at me. A loud keening shriek was ripping my throat and something wet clung to my lashes and cheeks. Draco pulled me to his chest and he cradled me, murmuring sweet nonsense into my hair. The wails died from my throat, leaving only terrified whimpers. I could still feel the chilled fog on my skin, the hands clawing at my clothes. I fisted my hands in his shirt and allowed Draco to rock me until my moans faded away. Even after that he continued to hold me, his coarse thumbs rubbing away the tears from my cheeks, "Moppy tells me you often have bad dreams," he murmured, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down my back, "I didn't realise they were this bad. Why haven't you said something?"

His voice was accusatory and I blew out a shaky breath, slowly releasing my clenched fingers one by one from his shirt. "I didn't think it was important," I whispered hoarsely, looking up to see an angry face, "you have enough on your plate already and-"

"Don't presume such things," he snapped harshly, taking my chin between his fingers to make me look into his face, "you should have told me. I could get you Dreamless Sleep draughts or dream catchers. It would have been no trouble."

The way he was holding me was doing things to my head.

It scared me.

I scowled at him and was about to retort when he hissed in pain, his hand dropping from my chin to pull down his shirt sleeve to hide something from me.

"What's the matter?" I asked, reaching the arm he seemed so keen to hide from me.

He recoiled from me and hurriedly got out of bed, shoved his trousers on and smoothed back his hair. "I have to go," he managed to say in-between stuffing his feet into his boots, "I'm sorry, I'd stay longer but..." he trailed off before grabbing his wand from the bedside table.

He leaned on the bed to place his hand on the back of my neck and press his lips against my forehead. "I'll be back. I promise," he murmured against my skin.

He was gone before I could utter a sound, the door swinging slightly as his dark robes flicked around the door. I sat stunned in the crumpled duvet nest I had, the heat of him already fading from the sheets. I curled my fingers into my palms as I tried not to miss him. I tried so hard. And failed. I wrapped the sheets around me and lay back again, trying to find respite from the hollow ache in my chest. I shouldn't feel this. I shouldn't be feeling this at all. He's married, you silly girl! He keeps you on the grounds of his house in a secret annexe. He is part of a race that is hell bent on obliterating all that you come from. It would never work. But I could feel myself becoming tangled and the more I tried to break free the more the net tangled around my form. I groaned, thumping my head against the headboard.

Stupid Lucy. Silly Lucy.

Falling Lucy.

*D*L*

After the entire morning spent moping in bed, feeling sorry for myself, I willed myself to get out of bed and go outside. The snow had made everything seem so crisp, clean and bright. The seven year old in me itched to throw herself into the whiteness and just forget everything for a few hours. I found myself agreeing with her and I wrapped myself up in warm clothes after having a quick bite of toast and trekked out into that bright clean world. Gremlin was nowhere to be seen and a part of me was glad. I wanted to be alone, if only for a little while. I threw myself into the snow and began to sweep my arms and legs, making a snow angel.

"_That's it Lucy, make a pretty angel."_

_Mum, cheeks red with cold, smiled widely, arms outstretched, "Who's a pretty angel?"_

_Aaron was rolling a snowball that was now up to his waist, huffing and puffing with effort. "Lu-lu! Stop rolling about and help me push!"_

_I spring to my feet, my 5 year old body stumbled towards where he was pushing, small red mittened hands, splaying up next to his black gloved ones. "Push!" my 9-year-old brother cried._

"_Careful you two! Remember Aaron, she's only little," came Mum's worried voice._

"_I can do it!" I said indignantly, while pushing against the wall of snow, "I'm a big girl now!"_

Blinking away the memory, I sat up, staring out at the silent garden. It was a dead silence. A silence that seemed to mock.

I got up and quickly marched away from the snow angel, blinking rapidly. I set about making a snowman. I bat the snow into a compact snowball before rolling it into the snow.

"_Heads!" Out of nowhere, a snowball smashed into my face, cold biting into my flesh. _

_I spluttered, wiping the icy water from my skin, "Gael! NOT COOL!" I gathered snow to create my own ammo, the ice seeping into the knees of my school tights._

_Shrieks of laughter echoed around the park, my friends running off into different directions. The cold air burned my lungs, as I sprinted through the world of white._

I balled my gloved hands into fists, crushing them into my eyes. I was aware of the snow's wetness seeping into the knees of my trousers as I was kneeling down, but I didn't care. Voices whispered as images snatched and slid behind my eyes, my thoughts wandering through branches of memories. Looks like it going to be one of _those_days then.

Most of the time, I had Good Days. Days when I could get up and not feel guilty about it. When I could feel grateful for the fact that I am breathing. Then there were the Bad Days. They always started on the days I would have a nightmare. Then it would all go down hill from there. Just by Gremlin asking me if I wanted a cup of tea would make me think of my mother and how she loved to have tea in a chipped mug with a photo of all of us as babies on the side. Or when I took one look at my school books and remember how my friends and I would sit in the college library, studying quietly together for our AS's. Anything could set me off in either a bout of tears or sloping off to bed for the rest of the day, wishing it would all be normal again.

But that never happens.

I removed my hands from my eyes. Determined not to let this day get any worse, I continued to make a snowman. I breathed slowly and deeply, forcing my mind to think of the snow and the snow only.

I went to town with the snowman. Stones for buttons and eyes, branches for arms, a carrot for a nose, a nasty looking floral witch's hat and a heavily perfumed scarf I found at the back of the coat cupboard.

I stood back, staring at the snowman. It stared back, it's desperately cheerful smile leering at me and I turned away in disgust. What the fuck am I doing? Playing the child? 'Poor little me'? I rub at my face and felt like screaming at the top of my lungs again. Is this it? Me stuck behind these wall slowly going mad with a combination of guilt, insomnia and cabin fever? Fucking brilliant.

I sprint back to the house and slammed the door behind me, my eyes stinging hotly as I began to rip my gloves, jacket and hat from my body. I kicked off my boots and slid in my socks to the living room. I collapsed on the coach, curl into a ball, arms around my knees, knees to my chest as the tears finally spilled. I rock on the cushion, sobbing into the already soaked knees of my trousers, the taste of snow and salt on my lips.

Looks like I have already failed on trying not to make this day any worse.

God I am so messed up.

I hardly noticed him coming through the door. I hardly noticed the way he calmly sits beside me, pulling off his leather gloves with a smooth grace. He slipped an arm around me and made me lean back, gently working my locked limbs until I'm finally resting in his circled arms. He's stroking my hair again with one hand, the other bringing one of my freezing hands to his chest. "It's ok," he murmured, gently, "everything is ok."

I finally managed to choke past my sobs, "I'm sorry...having one of those days."

He pressed a kiss to my temple and the cold in my bones didn't feel so biting, "we all have them I suppose."

My tears died down until I was only snuffling slightly. Draco pulled out a handkerchief and wiped my cheeks. He then pulled out his wand and cast a fire in the grate, instantly filling the previously cold and gloomy room with dancing flickering light. He then whispered in a gentle voice, "I'm just going to perform a Drying Spell on you, ok?" I nodded and tried not to stiffen when he pointed his wand at me. I felt the frosty water evaporate from my knees, the cold starting to recede from my body. We sat in silence for a long while, listening to the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the crackling of the flames in the hearth. The coldness drained from my bones and could begin to feel my fingers and toes again. It was then that I realised how hungry I was. My stomach gurgled and Draco sniggered. "Someone's hungry," he teased.

I said nothing but pulled away so I could look into his face. His playful smirk seemed to dull a little and a crease appeared between his brows. "Are you ok?"

Oh God, please don't do this.

I slid away from him, getting up to move to the kitchen. "Have you eaten?" I asked, "I've got chicken, rice and mushroom soup if you feel like it?"

"Uh...yes please," he replied, a surprised note to his voice as he sat heavily down in one of the kitchen seats.

I went to the pantry and pulled out the jug of homemade soup I had made yesterday.

"Lucy, sit down, I'll handle it," Draco chided, pulling out his wand. The jug was pried from my fingers and it poured itself into the steel pot. I squeaked in surprise as I felt an outside force push me towards one of the seats and sit me down. "There. Now just relax," he told me, grinning as he made a fire appear under the now hovering pot.

I sat in silence as he made two bowls appear out of thin air and were filled with the thick soup. They settled on the tables in front of us and bright silver spoons appeared next to them. "Thank you," I all but whispered, spooning up a mouthful.

We were silent for as we ate. I sat hunched over, trying to eat. But I couldn't. My throat was thick to the point of pain, making it hard to swallow even the soft soup. My head pounded, my stomach churned, there was a ringing in my ears. I wanted to slope off to bed and sleep for days, months, years.

"Lucy, what's wrong?" Draco finally asked, his eyes flickering up to me, "you look dead on your feet. What's the matter?"

I glanced up at him and wished I could pull back the clock hands, so I could be just a waitress and he could just be the boy I serve coffee to. I bit my lip and shook my head, "its nothing."

His eyes darkened, "bullshit. Don't lie to me Lucy. It's insulting and it pisses me off."

I clench my jaw and turn my gaze from him, "got a lot on my mind."

"Like what?" his tone was hostile, anger skittering around the edges, "look at me! Like what?"

I flickered my gaze back to him and nearly flinched at what I saw. His face was filled with harsh lines and angles, mercury eyes burning into me. "Its stupid," I said, feeling my face heat.

"I don't care. Tell me," his voice was trying to make itself gentle, but there was an underlying harshness.

My hands began to shake. To make them stop I dropped them beneath the table, clenching them against my jeans. "I just... I'm confused. I'm very confused." I pushed away from the table and got up on quivering legs. My vision clouded as the blood rushed away from my head and I wobbled, quickly gripping the chair I had just gotten up from.

"Lucy!" warm hands gripped my waist and hot breath rushed across my cheek. Winter silver eyes burned into me as the room began to spin, "about what?"

My hands reached up and gripped his shirt, holding the soft material in my fists, "You. This cottage. My family. This whole fucked up situation."

I released my hands and made them push his hands away. "I'm going to bed," I mumbled, turning away from him and walking to the stairs.

I expected him to call me back but he was silent as I started heaving my body up the stairs. My muscles protested and it was getting harder to breathe. It was on the fifth step did things start to really go wrong. The world blurred and twisted, the temperature seemed to rocket and the air smothered around my mouth. From faraway, someone seemed to shout my name. I hardly noticed as I felt gravity tilt on it's axis.

I crashed into something warm and hard, and more desperate noises bursted on my ears. Fingers stroked back my hair and brought my head up. More sounds, as these fingers prodded my skin. I groaned, wishing they would stop. I just wanted to sleep. I just wanted to sleep and never wake up.

My wish was granted as darkness crawled from the corners of my eyes and blackened my world, pushing me into unconsciousness.

**So there we have it! It's a bit short I know but I now have a better idea of what is coming up, so the next chapter shouldn't take too long, hopefully.**

**Anyway, what do you think? Lucy's ill and all confuddled! She's going to be alright though, promise! **

**Anyway, please tell me what you think. I appreciate anything you have to say and will try and reply.**

**Till next time!**

**Bones**


	8. Dear

**Here it is again! Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and alerts. They make me smile! Hope you enjoy! **

_Dear_

"Lucy! Open your eyes for me sweetheart, please!" I shook her desperately, almost violently, willing her to wake up. I had seen her, standing on the fifth stair, swaying gently, like a tree in a gentle breeze, before finally her knees gave out and she toppled backwards. In two lunging steps, I had caught her before her skull cracked on the steps below. And I now I held her flushed, hot body against my own, true and utter panic hammering my veins.

"Lucy, please!" I begged her. Her head lolled, her pink lips parted, her skin white to the point of translucency, sweat beading on her brow. Carefully, I gently pull her eyelids open. Her pupils were fully dilated, her gaze unseeing.

Shit.

She was never meant to get ill.

"Everything is going to be ok, sweetheart," I murmured, partly to her and partly to myself, "everything is going to be ok." I swept her up into bridal style, brought her up the stairs and settled her onto her bed. I felt her forehead and my stomach plummeted even further when I felt her skin feeling like a fire was burning underneath it. "Moppy!"

A loud crack, and the house elf appeared, twisting on the hem of her tea towel. She gave a squeak when she saw Lucy lying prone on the bed. She then did something entirely unexpected. She rounded on me, her face screwed up with fury, "what has you done to her? What has you done to her!" She smacked her tiny fists against my leg, shrieking unintelligible curses at me. I grabbed her skinny little arms and forced her away from me, "focus Moppy! Miss Lucy is very sick. Remember when I was a boy and you took care of me when I was sick? What would you give me?"

Moppy relaxed her hands and dropped them to her sides, thoughtfully cocking her head onto one side, "Chilling potion, Revival draught, Froissart's Anti-contagion and Cough Soother, in that order."

"Go get them then," I said, "and be quick about it."

Her eyes shone but she nodded and was gone in another crack. I turned to Lucy again. Her breathing was becoming laboured, her hair was plastered to her forehead and I could practically feel the heat rolling off her. I conjured up a cloth and soaked it in a stream of icy water from the tip of my wand. I placed it gently against her forehead. I began pulling the thick layers of clothing off her body, trying to get her comfortable. I paused when I got down to her t-shirt and jeans. I could see her bra underneath the material that was soaked with her perspiration. I swallowed audibly, partly in awe of her and partly appalled at myself. Here I was, perving on a girl who was unconscious and possibly fatally ill. Merlin, I have issues.

I settled for just taking off her jeans, and cast her long slim white legs an appraising look before tugging the duvet around her body, just as Moppy cracked back into the room, clutching bottles to her chest. "I's got what you needed Master Draco."

"Good, bring them here." She shuffled forwards and deposited the bottles on the bed spread. "Hold her head up," I instructed, picking up the bottle with clear liquid sloshing inside.

As Moppy gently lifted Lucy's head as I uncorked the bottled and brought it up to her lips, "c'mon Lucy, sweetheart. Drink."

I poured the potion between her lips, trying to be gentle. Coughs racked her body and her eyes fluttered open, blearily staring out, "Mum? S'that you? I feel really..." she suddenly lurched over the side of the bed and vomited onto the carpet. I held back her hair, while quickly pulling back my shoes from carnage on the floor.

She coughed and wretched before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, " 'M sorry mum. Didn't mean to ruin the carpet."

I gently pulled her back, settled her on the pillows again. "Just stay with me Lucy, alright?"

I retrieved the bottle with bright green liquid and pressed it to Lucy's lips, her eyes already fluttered shut. "Drink this sweetheart."

Like a child, she obediently drank it down. Her face screwed up in disgust, "Mum! I hate Calpol. Aren't I too old for it now?"

I said nothing, but picked up another bottle, this filled with icy blue liquid. All the while Lucy began mumbling to herself, "I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamed that David was a wizard named Draco who took me to this cottage when the wizards decide to uprise. He took me away from you when we were being moved from our home. I thought you were dead. I didn't like that part. But there was a gremlin named Moppy and David would visit me in my little cottage with it's big garden. I kissed him, like I have always wanted to, but he ran away. I hope tha' doesn't happen for real...I'm not _that_ bad a kisser."

I clenched my jaws and pressed the bottle to her lips, "drink this now."

"Ok," she whispered, before sucking down the Chilling potion. She choked again and wailed, "tha' hurts!"

"I'm sorry sweetheart," I murmured, stroking back her hair, and feeling her temperature drop rapidly, "I know it hurts."

She whimpered, tugging the covers around her body, "I'm cold now. Can you make me some of your special hot chocolate? Y'know...the one with those little itty bitty marshmallows. I promise not to tell the twins or Aaron, 'cos I know how tetchy they get for special treatment. It just always gets me warm again..."

My eyes stung and I swallowed back the lump in my throat, "I'm afraid we've run out of marshmallows."

She pouted and seemed to sink into the pillows, "oh...tha' s'not good. Maybe a hot water bottle?"

I nodded to Moppy and she seemed to understand. I took the back of Lucy's head and Moppy hopped out of bed and hurried away to get the hot water bottle. I pushed the Cough Soother against Lucy's lips, "c'mon, last medicine."

She drank it all down again and sighed in relief, "chest feels better now. But still really cold. Hot water bottle please?"

"Just a minute sweetheart," I whispered. Moppy hurried back again a red hot water bottle in her hands. She handed it to me, I lifted the covers and I placed it next to Lucy before tenderly pulling the covers back up to her chin. She sighed and smiled, "thank you."

"You're welcome sweetheart," I said, "you sleep now ok?"

"Ok, mum. Love you," she mumbled as she snuggled deeper under the covers.

I froze, staring at her now peaceful face. The colour was already returning to her cheeks and she "I love you too," I whispered it so quietly, even I barely heard it. I glanced at Moppy and told her firmly "keep an eye on her, alright? I have to go back but you inform me if things take a turn for the worst."

She nodded, while pulling the curtains closed and dimming the lights, "of course Master Draco."

I headed for the door as Moppy hopped up unto the rocking chair to keep watch over Lucy. I stopped by the doorway, to give one last glance at Lucy lying in bed. She was breathing evenly again, her hair spread across the pillow. Like I did every time I left her, I placed every single one of her features in my memory. I then left, walked through the snowy garden and then the wall, leaving the girl who seemed to turn my world on it's head.

Returning to the manor, I met my furious wife in the sitting room, "What the fuck, Draco?" she fumed, hands on her hips, "this is our honeymoon and you go off to stick your dick in your personal whore? How dare you!"

I ignored comments, even if I wanted to slap her for calling Lucy a whore, "Do you care for a walk around London, sweeting? Shall I spoil you? Do you want that, my pet?"

Her eyes sparked in greed and she smiled, her sour face twisting further, "that would be lovely Draco. Let me get my cloak. Why don't you take a look at how I have improved the house, my dear?"

As she whisked away, I eyed the repairs she had made to the sitting room. The faded red had been replaced with deep green velvets, the curtains no longer frayed. The portraits of my ancestors were finally sitting in clean gild frames and the place no longer smelled of dust. A perfect sitting room for a well respected Death Eater. Well, looks like there was some use to the bitch.

I couldn't help but compare the decorations of my wife and of Lucy. Lucy liked warm soft colours and simple furniture with pretty designs, while my wife preferred austere colours and hideously expensive furniture. No need to guess whom I preferred.

Pansy Malfoy flowed into the room, a cloak of soft ermine in a deep blue enfolding her form. I proffered my arm and she took it, smiling in what she must have thought was a charming manner. I grimaced back at her and apparated the both of us to Portia Alley. Portia Alley was just off of Diagon Alley and was considered more upper class.

Pansy cooed in pleasure and we began to walk down the winding cobbled street, pausing every now and then to stare at the shop windows. Every now and then we would bump into acquaintances and would start a round of painfully polite small talk. I don't know how many times we were congratulated on our marriage. By the fifth time I lost count. By what must have been the tenth time I wanted to bring out my wand and hex the next person who did so. Eventually we found the tailor shop: _Elienora__'__s__Boutique_where Pansy spent a full three hours having multiple robes fitted. Not wishing to wait in that stuffy, overly perfumed shop, I dumped a bag of galleons in Pansy's hand and wandered off down the street. I perused the one Wizard's sports shop but took no interest in the items on sale. It started to snow again and I pulled up the hood of my cloak as the thick flakes fell in soft flurries.

I dawdled down the alley, passing more glittering shops. Even under the rule of Voldemort most shops still flourished, quickly adapting to the laws that were starting to constrict most businesses. No mudblood, muggle or blood traitor could enter any retailer or establishment. No mudblood, muggle or blood traitor could own retailer or establishment. In fact, mudbloods, muggles and blood traitors couldn't do a lot nowadays. Half bloods were still in a grey area, it depended how far back the filth had entered. But most of them would now have to live with their heads constantly looking behind them.

I paused by a book store, casting the books in the front window a quick glance before moving on to the quaint jewellery store next door. It was there that something caught my eye. In the front window, among the glittering jewels and glimmering gold, was a small, silver, oval shaped locket. On the front, it was decorated simply, with a small purple stone set in the middle and golden clasp at the side to hold the two little doors close. Amongst the ostentatious bits of old fashioned jewellery, this struck me as rather pretty in a simple way. I knew Pansy would find it too simple, too plain to be worn in fashionable company, but I knew someone else wouldn't.

Before I could stop myself, I was in the dark little shop, asking the wizened old man to take out the locket from the front window. The man, noticing the black robes of a Death Eater, stuttered and bowed, carefully plucking the locket from its rest with his papery dry hands, "is this for your sweetheart?" He asked, placing it carefully on a panel of blue velvet for me to look at.

"More or less," I said vaguely, peering closely at the silver, "is it magical in anyway?"

"As a matter of fact, it is," the man said, pushing up his horn rimmed glasses and carefully pried the doors open, "the stone is amethyst and, when worn, it will protect your loved one from simple curses, illnesses and poisons. Furthermore, if you were to put a lock of your sweetheart's hair in, it will make whoever they love appear in the frames. Let me show you."

With his own gnarled wand, he severed a lock of his own wispy hair and placed it carefully into locket. Three figures sprang from the doors; one old woman and two blonde adults. They stood, smiling and waving at us from the velvet panel. The man smiled in fondness and I smiled in awe. It was perfect for her. Perfect.

"I'll take it," I said imperiously, pulling out a pouch of galleons from my pocket.

I paid the man generously and made off with the locket tucked away beneath my cloak, a sort of talisman against my hip.

When I returned the boutique, Pansy had several shopping bags cluttering the hallway of the boutique's interior and a giddy Pansy. "Daaaaahliiing," she sang, clutching at his shirt and grinning up at me, "I've had a woooonderful time and have bought lots of pretty things." She reached up on tiptoe and whispered in my ear, "some naughty things to."

I could smell the free champagne she had must have been drinking wafting from her mouth and I grimaced, putting her at arm's length, "Pansy, I think I need to get you home."

She pouted but clung harder to my robes, "oh, well if you insist, husband of mine." She tittered and cooed her goodbyes to the seamstresses as I, with a sweep of my wand, made the bags disappear to Malfoy Manor.

"Come along, my dear," I said in a infinitely patient voice, "time to go home."

I steered her towards the door, as she simpered and waved. I managed to get her to the apparition point and performed side along apparition back the Manor. As soon as we were in the foyer, Pansy, for lack of a better description, attacked me. She pushed her lips sloppily against my face, yanking my hair so that she forced my face against hers. "Make love to me! Ravish me!" she cried in what she must have thought was an alluring voice but sounded shrill and grating.

I grimaced and tried to pull away, "Pansy, I'm not in the mood. I have to go and-"

She pulled on my hair again to the point of pain, "no, you are not going to sneak off to be with your little slut. You are going to stay here and give me the son we both need." She forced her lips against mine again but anger sparked deep in my gut. It forced upwards and pushed all my sensibilities out of my head, making everything so infinitely, excruciatingly clearer.

I took Pansy's French hair twist and yanked her head back, making her whimper in surprise. I then leaned down, my lips gently brushing her ear as I whispered in an equally gentle voice, "Call Lucy a slut one more time, and I will make your time in this house _hell._ Do I make myself clear?"

She moaned but whispered, "yes, yes, I understand."

She made as if to pull away but I yanked her back again, pulling her body harshly against mine. Terrified yelps issued from her mouth and she looked at me with pure fear. But I paid no heed. I gripped her jaw and made her terrified blue eyes stare back at me, "and where do you think you are going?" Tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes but I couldn't stop myself. I wanted Pansy to suffer because she was there and close.

"As duty calls on the both of us to produce an heir, let's get this over with. As you so eloquently put it earlier, if I have to stick my dick into ugly, frigid, bitch you so I don't have to touch you anymore, then so be it." I took her by the arm and dragged her to our bedroom as she cried.

"Stop your bawling," I snarled, as we burst into the bedroom and I threw her unto the bed, shrugging off my robes, "it makes your face even more repulsive than it already is."

She quieted down, her blotchy face looking reproachfully at me. With shaking fingers she began to unbutton the silk robes from her shoulders. "I... I'm sorry I'm not her," she whispered, as I, now fully naked, crawled on top of her, nudging her legs apart with a thigh. With strong fingers I crawled one hand up her thigh and wrenched her knickers down.

Our gazes locked and I whispered, "I'm sorry too."

Then I pushed forwards.

*D*L*

It took me three days to bring myself to see Lucy again. I felt filthy. After Pansy's and my...altercation, I couldn't bring myself to be in her presence. To have her thinking of me in the way that she does. The jewellery box was a burning heavy weight under the layers of my robes, as I walked about with it.

It was the image of her condition the last time I saw her that drove me to the wall again. Moppy hadn't come back to me, so I assumed that Lucy had gotten better. It was midday as I trudged through the snow, the cold seeping into the hems of my robes. Walking up to the front door I quietly let myself in. I heard the quiet sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen, the warm smells of streak pie wafting from the kitchen. I shifted into the room to see Moppy siting by the stove on a wooden stool, watching her creation bake in the oven.

I coughed and Moppy jumped, her large saucer eyes fixing on me, "Master Draco! You's back!" her face was apprehensive as she gazed at me, her fingers twisting around each other.

"How is Lucy?" I asked quietly, leaning against the doorframe.

"Much better, Master Draco, much better," Moppy said, a happy grin breaking her serious face, "she's resting now but her fever has gone down and she is talking clearly again."

"Can I see her?" I asked, my voice starting to become tentative.

Moppy seemed startled by the question, "of course! She is upstairs."

I nodded and left without another word, treading up the creaking stairs. I paused just outside her door, with my forehead resting against the wood of the closed door. I heard the quiet hushes of breaths of someone slumbering. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw, my fingernails biting into my palms as I listened to her. Self-loathing filled my gut and I wanted to bolt. But I swallowed it down and pushed the door open.

Even though the window was unshuttered, allowing bright light into the room, she was fast asleep, one of her hands tucked up underneath her cheek. The other lay relaxed on the pillow, half opened. Her raucous curls were tied off her face in a loose bun at the back of her head, but there was one renegade curl that danced upwards every time she breathed. Her lips were parted, her face relaxed in slumber. She was wearing one of her big muggle shirts again, this one bright pink with _Cancer__Research__UK_on the front. The covers were up around her waist, but one foot dangled off the edge of the bed.

She was lovely.

I glanced around the room realising this was the first time I had been in here and actually taken note of what it looked like. The walls were a powdery blue, delicate silver stripes running up and down. The chest of drawers, wardrobe, armchair and desk were all white and were all pushed up again the walls. Lucy's brass double bed was under the window, so that the light spilled across her bed.

I tiptoed across to the bed and, with my wand, gently severed a lock of her hair. Holding it between my forefinger and thumb, I rummaged in the inside of my cloak, pulling out the jewellery box. I pulled out the locket, opened it and placed the hair inside. Instantly six figures stood up from the doors. Five of them I had only seen in the frozen pictures that scattered the house. A woman who looked like an older version of Lucy, a middle aged man with greying blonde hair, a large strapping man with brown hair, and a pair of toddler twins with identical smiles and blonde hair. These people were all crowded into one door, laughing and smiling as they stood in the locket.

I had expected these people in the locket because they were Lucy's family. She loved them and always would love them. But it was what stood in the other door of the locket that had me reeling.

I stood in the other door, hands in my pockets as I stared up, looking like I utterly belonged there, a smirk formed on my lips.

I had to sit heavily on the armchair because it felt like my legs was about to give out. I stared at the girl in bed, watching her sleep as I clutched the locket in my hand. Her lips twitched in the form of a smile, as if she was having good dreams. I glanced down at the locket and then back at her again, trying to make the connection in my head.

How? How was it possible for someone like her to love someone like me? She never- I mean she- she was gentle and kind and would never back down. I have done things that should have her recoiling from me. Should have her turning away in disgust.

I stared down at the little miniature of me in the locket, before snapping it shut.

I sat for a full five minutes, watching Lucy sleep and thoughts of her twisting my mind around and around.

I clenched the metal of the locket between my fingers and brought it up to my lips, still staring at her.

She liked to sing muggle songs while she cooked or cleaned.

Whenever she achieved something with Moppy, she'd ask the house elf for a 'high five' and do a little victory dance.

When she would set a plate of food down in front of me, she would smooth her hands on my shoulders, before flourishing a napkin up for me to take.

She could tell when I was in a bad mood. She would give me this look and lightly touch my face with those gentle long fingers of hers, her eyes showing a quiet understanding.

Bloody hell.

I got up and came close to the bed while tucking the locket into my beast pocket, looking down on her inert form. I leaned over her, my hands on either side of her so that I had her caged beneath me. She stirred as I made the bed move, a light groan uttered from her lips. I skimmed my nose across the skin of her neck, drinking in her summery scent. She's groaning again, muttering something like, 'five more minutes.' I kissed the corner of her mouth and she sighed, rolling onto her back, giving me better access. Her eyes were still closed but I had a feeling she wasn't as asleep as she seemed. Time for a better wake up call.

I kissed her lips, her taste coming across my mouth. I kissed her with a passion that I could not as effectively put into words. At first she was unresponsive.

But then she gasped against my mouth and pulled away, startled eyes staring up at me. "Draco, you are one horny bastard," she stuttered out, her cheeks flushed, "I could still be contagious."

I smirked, brushing my nose against her cheek, "you look much better. I'm taking my chances."

She laughed, a warm chuckle of a laugh before saying, "wow: a kiss and a compliment. I'm a lucky girl."

She stretched languorously beneath me, arching her back and pushing her breasts upwards. I could see the two small hard nubs underneath her shirt and something hot shot through me. "Alright lover boy, don't get too excited," she teased, patting my cheek and wriggling out from underneath me. She propped herself up against the headboard and grinned, "Moppy'll have your head for waking me up. She's all but chained me to this bed." I only grinned wider and sat myself beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"There is a lot to be said for chains and beds," I teased back, as she rested her head against my chest.

"You're perverted," she said lightly, picking up my left hand and playing with the relaxed fingers, "but that's ok. I'm used to it."

I smiled, pressing my lips against her hairline, "I'm glad you're better." It was quiet but true.

"Yeah, me too," she said, "I had forgotten how much vomiting sucks."

I chuckled, "You're back to your old self again."

"Yeah… that wasn't a good day for me," she sighed, shrugging, "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"I'm just glad you are better." I chewed on my bottom lip before saying gruffly, "I got something for you." I pulled the locket out with my free hand and held it out to her, "Hope you like it."

Her eyes widened and her face broke into a surprised smile, "Draco! You shouldn't have!"

"I saw it and uh…here it is." I am so romantic. Not.

Her smile turned dazzling as she turned the locket around to look at it from every angle, "Its beautiful, thank you."

"You might wanna open it," I murmured, heart beating a tattoo against my heart.

She glanced up at me through her lashes, a quizzical smile on her lips before she did what I asked.

As the figures sprang up again, she pressed her shaky fingers against her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. She was speechless for a few moments and the tears escaped her eyes as she stared at the contents of the locket.

"Here," I pulled out my handkerchief and handed it to her. She took it but didn't use it, stuffed and clenched in her fist and still staring at the locket.

She suddenly wrapped her arms around me in a chokehold, hugging me to the point of nearly cracking my ribs. "Thank you," she whispered, wet warm tears splashing against my neck, "thank you."

I hugged her back, not sure of what else to do (I'm still getting used to the whole 'hugging' concept) and murmured, "You're welcome."

I was not used to giving things and getting a good feeling out of it. I gave things when I wanted something back or if I wanted to get into someone's good books.

But this?

I should give Lucy a present everyday if it always felt like this.

She finally released me, giving me a watery smile. "Can you help me put it on?" she croaked out, dabbing her eyes with my handkerchief. She handed me the locket and I brushed her hair away form her neck and clipped the locket into place.

"I think…" she said, taking a deep breath, "that this…" she picked up the locket again from where is rested on her chest, "is one of the nicest presents anyone has ever gotten me. Thank you, so, so much." She reached up and kissed me sweetly on the cheek, her eyes shining.

I tucked a curl behind her ear, warmth curling in my stomach, "please, consider it something to make up being stuck here. I know you must be getting cabin fever sometimes."

"Understatement of the century, but its better than the alternative," she shrugged, fingering the locket absentmindedly as if it had always been there.

"What do you do to pass the time when you don't have chores?" We settled back into our earlier position, her head resting against my arm.

"I read," she said. She stretched across, her arse rubbing slightly against my hip as she snatched up a book from her bedside table. I stared at the front cover, depicting the orange silhouettes of a man's and a woman's face, the title: _One__Day_ stamped in between them. "I'm rereading this. Its my favourite book of all time. Its about two people who meet in Edinburgh on this one day. The book then focuses on that one day for the next twenty years in their lives. Its really funny and sad and you would _never_ guess the ending."

"Never heard of it."

"_What?_"

The outraged look on her face made me snigger.

"You have not lived, Draco Malfoy," she told me seriously. "What do wizards read anyway? Spell books?"

"I guess, we do have literature, but the market is bigger for spell books."

"God, that sounds depressing," she said, "it's the opposite in my world." She glanced down at the book again, frowning, "Its odd to think that I probably own the last few copies of muggle books on this godforsaken island."

There was a pause as we listened to the slight wind that made the icicles on the trees tinkle. Pressing my lips against her temple, I said quietly, "why don't you read it to me then?"

She glanced up with a startled smile on her face, "You have time?"

I glanced at my watch and said, "I have until four. Pansy-" I abruptly cut myself off, as my wife swam through my thoughts.

Lucy's eyes were wide, and she gave me a tentative smile, "you can mention your wife to me, Draco. Its alright."

"Yeah, I know but uhm…I don't necessarily want to talk about her," I shifted uncomfortably and then quickly changed the subject, "why don't you start reading to me? I wanna see if I've been missing out."

She gave me hard look, like she was trying to see past my flesh before bending her head and flicking to the first page. "Alright: 'Chapter 1: The Future. Friday 15 July 1988. Rankeiller Street, Edinburgh. "I suppose the important thing is to make some sort of difference…"'"

She read on, her quiet voice filling the silence of the deep winter. As she read, I would brush my lips across her temple, finger locks of her hair, nuzzled my nose across her shoulder. Every now and then she had to stop and explain a few muggle phrases and words I didn't understand.

In a world that no longer made sense. That span in faster and faster circles that blurred into colours and shapes and sounds that were brash and dangerous. There was something beautiful to be able to pause for a small while, to be read to by a girl with an easy grin and glittering eyes.

But the time seemed to trickle away from us as she read, and before I knew it, it was nearly 4. I sighed, kissed her temple once more and detangled myself from her. She turned the corner of the page over and grinned up at me. "That was nice. I should read to you more often."

"Yeah," I murmured, reluctantly pulling on my boots and flattening out my hair, "I can see what you are so outraged about. I like the story."

She smiled and slid out of bed. She stood in front of me, craning her neck to look up at me. "Let me just see something." Before I could stop her, she had grabbed my left arm and pushed my sleeve up. I took a short gasp of breath when the Mark was finally revealed to her for the first time. I tried to wrestle it away but she clung on. With one delicate finger, she traced the shape of it, staring shrewdly at it, like it was some creature she had found under a stone. "Ugly thing, isn't it?" she said absently, "I've seen it before, when you were passed out drunk. I thought it was only the light but uhm…nah its still as gross as I remember it."

She stroked her hand one more time over the flesh and pulled the sleeve down, "But…just 'cause it's on your skin doesn't mean it's a part of you. You need to remember that sometimes." She kissed me on the cheek and span away from me, grinning, "I'm gonna have a bath! I'm sick of sleeping. See you soon and be safe!"

She was out the room within a heartbeat, her scent all around.

I stared after her and then chuckled, shaking my head.

I want to ask the Dark Lord one of these days why, if muggles were so base and filthy, how something so lovely and perfect as Lucy Warren could exist?

**Yeah…that was hard. Again I wrote this completely differently and had to rewrite again so that it made more sense and less like mush. **

**So whaddya think? They're getting closer aren't they? I always had this image of Lucy reading one of her muggle books to Draco. I think it's going to become one of their 'things'.**

**Could you all fill out a survey for me for my maths coursework? The link is on my profile and I would be really grateful if you could. There's a better explanation on my profile as well, so please head on over there. You'd be doing me a massive favour!**

**Till next time!**

**Bones**

**xx**


	9. Burn

**I am so sorry this took so long! I had massive writer****'****s block and no time. But here it is, the next chapter! Hope you enjoy it!**

_Burn_

The Christmas tree glowed by the fireplace in the living room with the candles that Moppy had carefully strewn around the branches. I'd found some old ribbon and managed to create decorations out of paper to make origami birds and stars and out of my old CDs (as my player no longer worked around all the magic around the place…something to do with the electromagnetic static from spells) and Moppy had cast a spell on some holly branches bearing red fruit so that it wouldn't rot away. Snow with a similar spell glittered on the branches and on the top was a make shift angel, made out of a wooden spoon and some of the more ugly items we found in the back of the coat cupboard.

I grinned at our handiwork, proffering my hand to Moppy for the customary high-five. "We're awesome," I declared, "now it just needs presents underneath it."

We'd found the small evergreen at the back of the garden and managed to chop it down and bring it inside, in anticipation of Christmas, which was only the next day.

A little late with the decorating? Yeah…I'd been putting it off, afraid that bringing out the Christmas vibe would have me burrowing my head into my pillows and not getting up unless to pee.

And I don't want to go back to that.

Nope.

Nu-uh.

Not me.

But I managed to get through it all. We managed to Christmasify (yes, I just made up a word, sue me) the entire house, with a wreath on the front door, the kitchen lined with homemade paper decorations, even mistletoe in the hallway.

And it was nice.

Yeah, nice.

I even got presents. I got Moppy curtains. Yes, curtains. For clothes. Her teatowel is looking a bit frayed and stained and she screamed in horror once when I handed her a t-shirt of mine for her to wear.

"Miss Lucy'd free Moppy!" she squealed, recoiling from the shirt like it carried the dreaded lurgey.

So I got her some nice red coloured curtains, that I knew she could make into clothes for herself without having the horrors of 'being freed.'

I'd never thought I'd ever have to say that in my life. Strange times.

Draco was a little more difficult. I didn't want to give him something that would compromise him but then I wanted something that meant something.

I finally found it. When I was small, I used to collect metal caps to soda bottles. I had kept them in a wooden small box and I found a Sprite cap and a Coca-Cola cap. I smiled in remembrance of how we first met, as I stamped them both down flat and then punched holes to thread a metal circle through to create a necklace out of a long silver chain that I knew could be hidden underneath clothes. All in all, I was pleased with the result.

As I wrapped it all up in Christmassy wrapping paper and set it under the tree, I could feel my own necklace from him bump against my ribcage. I could spend hours staring at the people inside and the rest of the time it burned as a comforting weight around my neck. It seemed quite natural for me to have Draco in with my family. In reality, I cared for him. He can be a bit of an arsehole sometimes but then I'd always known that.

He'd been visiting every couple of weeks, because he was away on business for weeks at a time. This meant he could only see me for brief periods, barely 5 minutes most of them. He always looked haggard, and I always caught the stench of smoke on his clothes.

So it was a surprise when he slammed the door shut on that night, grumbling to himself and stamping off snow in the hallway. I had just put the presents under the Christmas tree when he stormed in, in an absolutely foul mood.

I smiled up at him, but I could feel the apprehension start to build, "Hey Draco, what brings you here? Haven't seen you in a while."

He scowled, dropping his horrible mask onto the floor and loosening his cloak, "for a good fucking reason."

He barked over his shoulder, "Moppy! Drink!"

Moppy scurried off before I could stop her and I gritted my teeth, getting to my feet, "Alright Draco, what is it?"

He sneered, "none of your concern _muggle_."

I sneered right back; "well I'm making it my concern, _wizard_."

Moppy hurried back again, firewhiskey in her trembling fingers. He snatched the glass, drained it in one go and slammed it down on the nearest table. "Leave Moppy!" I flinched and Moppy squeaked and cracked away without another word. He scowled even deeper and glanced around the room. "What the fuck is this?"

I chewed on my tongue and replied, "Christmas decorations."

He sniggered as he flicked one of the dangling CDs with a perfect fingernail, "it looks shit."

I snapped.

"If you're just looking for a fight, get out. Come back when you stop being an arsehole. Whatever it is, I'll talk to you about it when you're finished getting on my nerves." I pushed past him, all for getting into the kitchen and stuffing my face with mince pies until I felt his icy cold grip on my arm, jerking me back.

"You cannot tell me to get out. I can visit and stay for however long I want." His eyes gleamed and he leaned in, our breaths mixing as his lips came close to mine.

I jolted backwards again and my hand whipped back to slap his cheek, "That's enough!" I snapped, yanking my arm out of his grip and storming away, my earlier peaceful mood drained away to be replaced by anger.

Insufferable twat. One of these days I'm going to strangle him, I swear to God.

I heard a low oath as I left the living room and walked across to the kitchen. My hands tightened into fists and set about making supper, angrily chopping carrots.

I hardly heard him come up behind me and wrap his arms around my waist, head dropping to rest on my shoulder, his breath tickling my ear.

"Do you really want to hug me right now, when I'm holding a big sharp knife?" I said irritably, chopping carrots with a repetitive 'thunk'.

"Pansy's pregnant."

I stiffened, dropping the knife onto the chopping board and leaning against the kitchen side. He was beginning to pepper kisses on the nape of my neck, sweeping my ponytail aside to gain more access. "I suppose that's a bad thing?" I asked him.

He snorted, the sudden gush of warm air on my nape making my spine tingle, "I'm not ready to be a father." He paused, resting his chin on my shoulder before he heaved a sigh and turned his head so his mouth was right by my ear, "but it is what is expected."

"Ok," I murmured. I turned in his grip so that I could look him in the eye, "Well you know the remedy to that?"

He shook his head.

I cupped his cheeks, my mouth twitching into a small smile, "You love him and you protect him as best as you can. The rest comes easy after that."

He frowned in thought over that, taking a hold of my wrists, "But- but what if I-"

"You're not listening to me," I said patiently, brushing my thumbs to bring his attention back to me; "You love him and you protect him. That's all you need. Alright?"

His eyes were still confused but he nodded anyway.

"How's Pansy taking it?"

Something dark and ugly congealed in his gaze and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He dropped his arms to my waist again, wound his grip tighter around me to the point of pain and inhaled deeply through his nose, "She's relieved. Partly because it takes the pressure off of her from her friends and partly because it means she doesn't have to-"

He cut himself off abruptly and buried his nose into my hair, inhaling deeply again, his fingers toying with the ends of it.

He couldn't distract me that easily though.

"What Draco? She's relieved because of what?" I pressed gently, yet I pushed my hands under his waistcoat so that they rested on his ribs. I could feel the gentle 'tha-thump, tha-thump' of his heart and the hushing expansion and shrinking of his lungs.

His Adam's apple bobbed against my forehead and he said so quietly I could only just about hear him, "I'm not gentle when we couple."

I tensed imperceptibly but I knew he felt it. He growled, vibrations trembling up my arms. "She's…not what I want. When we have to be together, I get frustrated and then…I…" He suddenly cupped my face, tilting up so that I looked into his splintered iron eyes, white blonde hair dishevelled.

"You have to understand: its just fucking," the curse sounded brutal, harsh. "It means nothing, absolutely nothing. It's a means to an end. Its _nothing_."

He snarled the last word, and I quickly said, "Draco, she's your wife. You are supposed to sleep with her. Technically I'm the other woman."

Just as my mouth twisted in distaste around the words he growled again, "You're no the other anything!" he snapped, pulling me away from the chopping board, only to push me against the wall next to the stove. His eyes bored into mine as he whispered hoarsely, "you're…you're Lucy Warren. The girl who explained to me what a Sprite is."

His lips twitched into the semblance of a smile and I smiled tentatively back. He took a curl of my hair and wrapped it around his finger; "I just…wish it was her in here and you out there. That's all."

Something seemed to shift between us and our world paused in wait.

I swallowed, unsure of what to do. My mum was good at this sort of thing. Making everything seem better, even though she couldn't really change the way things were.

In that moment, I wished she was there so keenly it made me gasp.

Draco arched his eyebrow, "are you ok?"

I pursed my lips, closed my eyes and took on the massive job of tapering down my thoughts, organising them into coherent patterns. And when I opened my eyes and looked into his grey winter ones, it was like all the cracks had been filled. I knew what to do.

"You hungry?" I asked him.

He blinked, startled at the question, "uh...somewhat, why?"

I grinned and slipped from underneath his arms and padded to the pantry, "I have lasagne for tea tonight. I was just preparing carrots for tomorrow, full Christmas dinner, but no Christmas pudding. Never liked it anyway. Instead, chocolate roulade. I've made enough for three if you want to come over at some point. But you don't have to," I said this all in one big rush, while bringing out the covered tray of lasagne. I flicked on the oven and began slotting the lasagne in, all the while saying, "its just there if you want it. Christmas is all about eating and having a good time."

Once the lasagne was in and cooking, I dusted my hands on my jeans and hollered for Moppy again. The elf cracked back, twisting her fraying tea towel around her fingers, "Miss Lucy? Everythings alright?"

I smiled warmly at her, "everything is fine, Moppy. Why don't you go to the main house and work with your friends tonight? I'm sure they can use your help, hmm? Master Draco and I will be perfectly fine."

Moppy's gaze flickered to the now calm Draco, who stood stiffly by the doorway, "Are you sure?"

Moppy had taken on the form of a miniature protector, ever since I was sick. She was always uncomfortable with leaving on my own, even more so with Draco. I knew her concerns were valid to a point. To reassure her I said, "I'll call if I need to but you're free to go back. I'll be fine, I promise."

She looked at me with those big watery eyes of hers and nodded once, before bowing lowly, "thank you, Miss Lucy." She turned and did the same to Draco before cracking away.

Draco frowned, "she doesn't like me alone with you."

"She's just looking out for me, that's all," I took his hand and led him to the living room, "and anyway, you and I both know I can take care of myself. No sweat."

He was still frowning in thought, so I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the living room. "You shouldn't need to take care yourself from me," he muttered distractedly, not really talking to himself than me, "Some safeguard I am."

"Oh hush now. You're just a bad drunk that's all," I said nonchalantly, setting him down on one of the couches, "Just sit tight and I'll get your present."

"Present?" He sounded so shocked at the notion I almost laughed.

"Yes silly, for Christmas."

"But I-"

"You've already given me something so I don't mind." I retrieved the present from the bottom of the tree and handed it to him. "Its not much anyway," I said bashfully, my cheeks starting to redden as I handed the small package to him.

He took it, holding it delicately between his long fingers. He was looking down at the present with an unreadable expression. I sat opposite him, hands twitching in nervousness. "I'm going to get us a drink," I said quickly, darting out the room before my face burned right off. I managed to get two butterbeers (something Moppy introduced me too…bloody amazing) from the pantry, the coolness calming my face. I made it to the living room again, bottles in hand and found him still staring at the small gift. The nervousness returned with a vengeance again and I shakily handed him his drink before sitting down.

"Do you want to open it outside or…?" I trailed off, tapping my fingers against my bottle, chewing on my lip.

He glanced up and his lips twitched "what you nervous for?"

I flushed, "I just want you to like it, that's all."

He smirked now, before flicking the package open and slid the necklace into his palm. The Coke and Sprite caps glimmered in the light from the fire the chain coiled in his palm. They suddenly looked so very stupid, sitting in his palm. I couldn't believe I was that childish. I hid my disappointment behind knocking back a few mouthfuls of my drink.

However, when I put the drink down again, his mouth replaced the mouth of the bottle. He kissed me with a fervour that made my stomach flip and melt. His fingers tangled in my hair and his minty breath filled me up. My startled eyes closed as he pressed his hot mouth against me. When I couldn't breathe anymore, he moved away and pressed the skin of my cheeks, my eyelids, my forehead, my chin, my jaw.

"Uh…you like it?" I asked a little breathily, as he sucked a little flesh on the corner of my jaw.

He snorted, breath of warm air on my neck whooshing down my chest, "and you call me silly."

He pulled away and brought his fist up, opening it to reveal the necklace. With his other hand he pulled it up and then threw it over his head, the caps chinking as it fell down the centre of his chest.

He didn't say thank you, that's really not Draco's style, but I could see it in his eyes. I stroked my fingers through his hair, the white gold threads glimmering between my fingers. He grinned, all the earlier tension drained away from him, "read to me again."

I liked this Draco. Even if he didn't do all of his p's and q's.

"Magic word?"

He scowled like a petulant child and muttered a quiet 'please.'

"You're such a two year old," I laughed, getting up and running to the stairs to get my book, "I'll read to you before lasagne finishes cooking alright?"

He nodded, the necklace chinking again. I laughed again and retrieved my book. When I got back down he was sitting where I had been, legs up on the couch and grinning like an idiot. I scowled at him, did the most mature thing I could think of. I threw myself on top of him, effectively winding him. "Merlin!" he wheezed, "Bloody hell woman! What was that for?"

"You took my seat," I said accusingly, arranging myself into a comfortable position on his chest, "Deal."

He poked me in the ribs, and I poked him in the stomach, "do you want me to read or not?"

"Wait a minute. This isn't comfortable and you weigh a ton," he grumbled.

As he shifted his legs so his feet were on the floor, I said incredulously, "Well that's charming. Real lady killer you are with your wonderful chat-up lines like that."

"Shut up, you squished me. Deal," he griped, my head now in his lap, "Read."

"Alright Neanderthal," I retorted, thumbing my way through the pages to find the one we were at, "tsk, men."

He poked me again but we settled back down when I began to read. After a few minutes I felt his hands start to curl into my hair, winding locks around his fingers and lightly massaging my scalp. It was quiet and still once more as I quietly read, the fire flickering in the grate near my head. His breaths intermingled with the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. The longer I read _One Day_, the more we both relaxed. We both jumped when the timer on the oven rang.

I got up quickly and patted my hair, scowling when I felt the frizz, "what the heck did you do? Bolt a hundred volts through me?"

"You do realise I don't know what volts are?" he grinned impishly, "I kinda like it…you're all…fluffy. Like a kitten."

I stuck my tongue out at him and got up, trying to flatten my hair, "Curly hair is a nightmare to flatten and you know that right? I was called Fuzzy in school until I was 14, that's when I learned the joy of conditioner." I tried to straighten it again but then gave it up as a bad job. I sighed and stomped off to take out the lasagne, gently steaming from the oven. I spooned lasagne onto plates and we both sat at the small table. "Cheers, Merry Christmas!" I said, raising my bottle. He chinked his bottle to mine and we both drank.

I quickly picked up my cutlery, "don't know about you, but I am starving." I shovelled in a mouthful as he nodded, also tucking in.

"I haven't eaten since yesterday," he said quietly after swallowing his mouthful.

I frowned, "how come?"

His brow creased and he stared down at his plate, "there was a break in at the...Camp."

I stopped chewing and quickly swallowed. Something cold slipped down my spine and I managed to remain calm enough to say, "go on."

He seemed to be bracing himself. His fingers clenched around his cutlery as he said, "we think it was an escape attempt with the help of outside forces so we've been on alert. I've been at the camp for the last two days, manage to tear myself away to both announce the 'good news' at this charity shit my wife wanted us to go to." He shakily smoothed his hair back, dropping his cutlery onto the table. "I then had to go back to the camp to organise the guards again so that I had shifts of them going for the next 24 hours without cocking up so I could get some semblance of a rest." He then looked at me, head in his hands, "But then I found myself outside your door."

He trailed off, then snorted, "Listen to me. Sound like a-"

He cut himself off again and tugged on his hair again, before picking up his cutlery and shovelling food into his mouth. "Goo' foo'," he said though a mouthful of pasta, not looking at me.

I took a deep breath, "So all in all, it's been a shitty couple of days."

He nodded silently, "and I took it out on you. Sorry."

"That's ok," I said quietly, "You feel better now that you have some food down you?"

He nodded again, his lips twitching. I brushed my hand against his warm hand, checking his temperature, "You've warmed up, which is good. All you need now is a good night sleep." My thumb brushed the purplish shadow under his left eye, "You're welcome to stay."

Just as I was about to pull away again, he captured my hand and held it close again. Steel grey eyes locked onto me. He squeezed it once before letting it go. We began to eat it again quietly, as our cutlery scraped across the plates. He finished ahead of me and I said to him, "you're welcome to more. Help yourself."

His chair scraped as he got up to serve himself some food. "So…how are you celebrating Christmas tomorrow?"

"With a lot of alcohol, hopefully," he snarked, "and maybe a cute bird."

I snorted, because I knew he was joking. "What about you?" he asked sardonically.

"Ah, I thought I would take a stroll down Oxford Street then show my appreciation by doing a two fingered salute to The Dark Lord," I joked back, before taking a swig of my butterbeer, "then toddle home on my flying pig."

He laughed, settling down again with a piled plate, "that sounds like fun."

"Looking forward to it already," I smirked, "seriously though, I'll just be here, stuffing my face and…reminiscing, I suppose. You?"

"Enduring the masses," he muttered, "I'll be thinking of you."

I jolted at the admission, blushing at my plate, "Dude, warn a girl when you say something like that," I muttered.

He said nothing for a while as I finished my plate. I cleared it away, putting it into the sink before I turned around, leaning against the sink. I watched him, watching me. My eyes followed the line of his jaw, his nose, his high cheekbones. The winter gold of his hair and the silver grey of his eyes. Draco reminded me of Antarctica. Cold and unconquerable. But certainly pretty to look at. My eyes fell on his lips, soft and mobile. You could cut the tension with a knife. A hot shiver tingled through me and I blurted out before I could stop myself, "Kiss me."

He arched an eyebrow and smirked, "What?"

I swallowed and brushed back my hair from my now burning face, "You heard me."

He got up and stalked towards me, until he had me trapped by the sink. He leaned down so that our faces were opposite each other, "You want me to kiss you, Lucy Warren."

I nodded, breaths coming out faster with each second, "yes please."

His mouth suddenly crashed down on mine, as he consumed me, liquid fire burning through me. I fisted his hair as he pushed me against the sink. He grabbed the edge of my shirt and lifted it upwards, fingers working up my stomach and spine. I tore away for the need to breathe, so he latched onto my throat, sucking on the flesh again. It was like we crossed this boundary, and once we were on the other side, there was no turning back. I fumbled for his robes and unbuttoned them, so they fell to the floor in a pool around his feet. He growled and I suddenly felt his wand pressed to my t-shirt. I stiffened, breath hot on his neck, waiting for him.

He hushed silly nonsense into my ear and suddenly, the tip glowed pink and my t-shirt disappeared, leaving me in my bra and jeans. His wand clattered to the floor as his fingers dipped between my bra strap and skin, running his finger down to my breast. I took his earlobe and bit it delicately between my teeth, while unbuttoning his shirt, pushing the material off his shoulders, revealing his chest. He took my thighs and lifted me onto the counter, taking my mouth again. He nestled between my legs and something hard pushed against my stomach. He tore away from me and whispered in a hoarse voice, "You done this before?"

I nodded, feeling like every cell in my body was on fire.

"You…you want to do it?" he sounded unsure of himself, his grey eyes smouldering with an unknown emotion.

I nodded again, hot lava running though the centre of my body. A sigh of relief and then, "wrap your legs around me."

I did so, tightening my hold on him with my arms as he lifted me off the counter and silently carried me up to my room, resuming his kiss on my lips.

Before I knew it, he had settled me onto the bed, crawling over me to hover, so that our breaths mixed between us. He gave me that smirk, as my hands skimmed down to the waistband of his trousers.

No going back now.

**…****aaaaaaaand fade to black****…**

**Sorry****…****I know I am doing a massive cockblock, but I****'****m sure you can all imagine what sex is like with no help from me.**

**But they are finally doing it! BOOM. Did ya see it coming? And also more fluffy times as well****…****this chapter is just full of da romanz****…**

**Please tell me what you think! Thank you for all your comments and alerts, they****'****re amazing to see!**

**Bones x**


	10. Leaving Fanfiction

Dear Readers,

Really sorry to break this to you, but I'm quitting fanfiction. As you guys well know, I haven't been writing a lot for this account and my other account on TWCS. Here's why:

When I first came onto this site, I was 15, pretty lonely, not hugely self-confident and just looking for a place to post my early writings without being judged too harshly. Looking back, its only now that I realise how unhappy I was. Fanfiction and books were a sort of escape from school. Since then, I've had a huge amount of fun, met a lot of wonderful people, grown in confidence in my writing and realised my own potential.

I'm now 20; I've left school, started university and thinking about what I want to do with my life. I'm not the same girl who posted my first tentative story and waited anxiously for the reviews. I am so happy and confident now. I have friends that I love and I'm learning about things I'm actually interested in. This is the best point of my life so far. The more I've grown in happiness, the less I need to escape. I hope you all understand.

This doesn't mean I want to stop writing. That is still a huge part of me. I want to focus more on my original stories and characters. I have a head full of ideas and I have dreams of being published. So watch out! You might pick up a novel of mine one day.

The bottom line is: I've grown out of fanfiction. It's not as big a part of my life as it used to be and I don't think I can pretend to myself anymore. It's not fair on you guys, my readers. You all deserve an author that's still invested in her stories and updating regularly.

I'll be leaving my account up and I'm putting all of my stories up for adoption. If you're interested or know of someone else who might be interested, message me (never done this before, so not sure how I'm gonna continue after that).

Finally, thank you all so much. I can't express how much this site has been a comfort to me, especially through the days when I didn't think that much of myself. Fanfiction was more than just a pass time for me; it was a way of experimenting with my writing style and ideas. I couldn't have asked for a more supportive response. You guys were awesome and I thank you so much for being patient with me through the shitty update timing, the Lolclan incident and my moments of crazy insecurity.

This place was a huge part of my life as a teenager and I'll always look back with fondness.

I wish you all a happy life and all the best in what you intend to do.

Lots of love,

Emily Bones


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